The Secret
by Smrtypantz
Summary: Arthur's sister, engaged to prince Alfred, is killed before she even meets him. Arthur's parents do not want to shame themselves by ending the engagement and force Arthur to dress like his sister and marry Alfred instead. But can this secret be kept?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Written for the USxUK livejournal community Secret Santa Exchange 2009 for parttime_job. Please enjoy :)

* * *

**The Secret**

**Chapter 1**

Marriage is a funny thing. It symbolizes the beginning of two lives spent as one. Two lives meant to do everything together. Meant to walk together, talk together, dine together, bed together… It's supposed to be magical for the bride and groom. Their families are supposed to shed tears at seeing a relative move forward in his or her life.

But in all honesty, since when was marriage ever like that?

Since when did two people have to love each other to marry? As a matter of fact, hardly anyone in my family has married out of love. It's always been about marrying for land, for power over our enemies. My own parents hate each other. They were part of an arranged marriage, forced to endure one another for the rest of their lives.

Perhaps it is better to just establish facts. Marriage is a union between a man and a woman who love each other…right? Marriage between a man and a man…that's something different. Not just different. It's unheard of in these times. The year is 1543 now, and not once have I ever heard of two men marrying one another. Perhaps this is just unheard of in my land, the country I grew up in… in England. Two men marrying…is that a sin? I don't think it should be… No. I'm quite sure it isn't. It couldn't be…

I'm beginning to ramble. I should introduce myself. Hello. My name is Arthur Kirkland, and this is my story.

* * *

_Kingdom of England_

_April 20__th__, 1543_

Arthur heard the sobs echoing from her room. She sounded so tormented. It was truly a predicament she was in, but she really had to buckle down and take it like a man…or a woman…perhaps it was because she was a woman that made her so vulnerable to her emotions? Arthur put on a brave face, not only for her, but for himself. He hated his sister's sobs…

Her name was Isla. Isla Kirkland. Her name would change in a week. Soon it would become Isla Jones. _The name just doesn't fit her,_ Arthur thought to himself as he began to walk up the stairs to his sister's room.

Isla was engaged to a prince in the kingdom of America. Both the kingdom of America and the kingdom of England were located on the same continent of Talia. War had ripped the two nations apart in the past, which is why both territories still shared their common language of English. Now, Arthur's parents figured, was the time for the kingdoms to reunite under one rule.

The only way to do so was by an arranged marriage between Isla, the princess of the kingdom of England, and the prince of the kingdom of America, a man by the name of Alfred Jones.

Arthur knocked on his twin sister's door. After hearing no response, he decided to open it himself. "Isla?" he asked while looking around the room. It was bare. She would be living in the kingdom of America from now on. All her belongings were in cases out in the carriage. All that was left was her bed, which she was sitting on as she looked out the window.

"Isla, it is time to depart…" Arthur spoke quietly. He was trying to maintain his composure for her. In truth, he wanted to scream and kick and punch whoever had first decided it was a good idea to marry his sister off like this. But Arthur couldn't let her see this side of him at the moment, no matter how used to his anger she was.

"I know, brother…" she said softly. Arthur followed her gaze out the window. The sky was a beautiful blue. It was free of clouds and the wide expanse was positively breathtaking. Cloudless days were rare in England. Arthur tore his eyes away from the wondrous sight and focused on his sister instead. Their appearances were a bit similar. Their hair color was the same shade of blond. Her hair was short and framed her face. Their skin tone was the same as well, although she had a few freckles littered across her cheeks and nose. Isla would cover them with makeup, embarrassed by the tiny spots on her face.

Arthur tried his best to muster a smile. It wouldn't come, so he settled for what he hoped was not a pitying look, but one of empathy. "It's best you come down now…our parents expect your arrival."

"I know…" she practically whispered. Her eyes did not stray from the sky.

Arthur placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before quickly bringing it back to his chest, shying away from such an act of emotion. "I…I can see you need more time alone, Isla…" he said, turning away, ready to leave the room.

"What do you think he will be like?" she asked suddenly. Arthur turned back to stare at his sister.

"Pardon?"

She repeated her question. "What do you think he will be like…Alfred? My husband?" It was nerve-wracking the way her gaze stayed fixed upon the sky beyond her window, but Arthur answered nonetheless.

"I think…I think he's probably the worst person in the world for stealing my sister…and that he doesn't deserve a woman like you…" he said to Isla, bluntly speaking his opinion on the matter. "But all I know about him is that he's marrying you…and anyone who even looks at you really doesn't get along with me, now do they?" He said with a small smile. Isla chuckled softly to herself.

"Perhaps he is a beautiful man…" she said, continuing to stare up into the sky. "Perhaps he is kind, brave, loyal, and loving…" Her voice was filled with something akin to hope, but Arthur knew that she was only fantasizing. Isla was aware of what the reality would be. The man she was marrying would probably be rude, cowardly, unfaithful, and hating. The kingdom of America was poor, after all. That probably didn't make him or his parents happy. Arthur's family was marrying off Isla for land, and Alfred's family was marrying off Alfred for money. A vicious cycle.

Isla turned to her brother. "I keep wondering to myself…does the kingdom of America have such a beautiful sky? Every day?" Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"I…I wouldn't know…" Arthur said lamely. Isla smiled. She knew she wouldn't be able to get much of a response out of her brother. He was too stubborn and shy when it came to soft emotions.

Isla stood up from the bed and proceeded to exit the room with Arthur. Before she exited the door, she said, "I think America has a sky…and it's a beautiful blue. That's what I shall look forward to, Arthur." She shut the door behind them.

* * *

But she would never know if America had a blue sky. She would never know what Alfred was truly like. She would never open her eyes again.

The carriage ride had been long. They trekked for days and stopped at the various castles of their lords to dine and slumber. They had had so many guards surrounding them all the time. Isla had to be protected, after all.

But apparently, word had gotten out that the princess was on her way over to the kingdom of America. Many citizens did not want the two kingdoms to unite. These rebels had forces which would torment the homes of many nobles.

As Arthur's family was exiting the castle of a lord, one of the servants pulled out a knife from beneath his clothes and stabbed his sister in the heart.

"Isla!" he had shouted, catching her in his arms. He turned his back towards the man and felt the swing of the knife land upon his back. Arthur screamed in agony but held tight to Isla. She was having trouble breathing and blood was pooling on the sides of her mouth.

Arthur heard the man being apprehended by others, but that was none of his concern now. He quickly laid Isla on the ground and attempted to compress the wound, stop the blood flow, do anything to save her! She was coughing up the blood that was slowly choking her. Pain was etched on every corner of her face.

He cradled her head in his heads and chanted "no" over and over again as he shook his head. Hands grabbed his arms and pulled him off of her, but he kicked and screamed for his sister. "Isla!" he shouted, trying to dig his feet into the ground to prevent the hands from dragging him further from his sister. "Isla! Please! Let go!" He was struggling against the arms that held him. "Don't help me, help her!" Others were surrounding Isla now. His parents were off to the side, looking in shock towards one another. They didn't appear upset. They only appeared to be _fighting_.

Arthur was led back into the castle. The doors were shut behind him. As soon as they released him from their grip, Arthur ran straight back to the doors and began to pound on them with a drunken fury. "Let me out! Isla!" Tears began to stream down the sides of his cheeks. This couldn't have happened, his twin sister couldn't have been hurt, she couldn't be out there _dying_ right now!

Minutes passed and his hands grew sore from pounding against the wooden doors. The wound on his back continued to bleed, but the men who had grabbed him had not seen it fit to bring him to a room to heal. He didn't care. His fists were still clenched and lay on top of the entrance. Arthur slid his body to the floor and allowed his sobs to take over. His body was shaking with fear, confusion, and shock. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, but he felt so helpless, trapped in a castle while his sister suffered and his parents did _nothing_.

His cries echoed throughout the spacious abode that day. And the next. And the next.

He couldn't help himself. Isla had been his _twin_ sister. They had been together since birth!

The wound on his back had been stitched up. Arthur ignored the pain of the needle as best he could. He only needed to concentrate on one thing: Isla was dead.

Arthur let out a shuddering breath. He was outside the conference room now. His parents were in there discussing with the lord what to do about the wedding. The bloody _wedding_. _No, don't care that your one and only daughter is dead,_ Arthur thought to himself._ Don't worry about your son, either. I'm sure he's doing just fine! By all means, discuss how you're going to pay off all those nobles to not come to the ceremony!_

It's not that Arthur didn't think these preparations were important. He knew it would be a hassle to cancel everything. But what about Isla's _funeral_, perhaps? They buried her in a hole, without so much as a priest to read her last rights or a cross to place above the burial mound. His parents had thrown her out like _garbage_. And Arthur couldn't stand it.

But he couldn't do anything about it either. As much as he wanted to barge in there right now and punch some sense into his parents, he couldn't. They could very well have him killed for such a thing…and probably would.

He continued to pace outside the conference room. He was told to stand outside and wait to be called in. "Arthur Kirkland!" his father roared from inside. Arthur quickly stepped inside to see various people surrounding a table. On the table was one of his sister's dresses, along with a wig and other womanly garments.

"What…what is going on?" Arthur asked angrily. "Are we selling her things already?!" he shouted towards his parents, his eyebrows furrowing in disgust.

"No, Arthur," his mother said calmly. Her face was stern, like it always was. She applied too much makeup for her own good and always had a menacing look to her. But Arthur wasn't about to be intimidated by her.

"Then why do you have Isla's belongings on the table?" he asked impatiently.

His father looked towards him with a look that screamed, "obey". His father said, "They are for you, my son."

Arthur was taken aback at the statement. His expression was first a look of shock, later replaced by one of confusion and finally hopeful sorrow. "You mean…I can keep her belongings?" he asked, wanting to confirm and see if it was true. If only his parents would let him keep her things, to remember her by. Perhaps he had been wrong about their intentions.

"No, Arthur," his mother spoke again. "They are for you to wear."

His face was one of shock again. "What…what do you mean _wear_? Why would I wear Isla's dress?"

His mother looked to him again. "Because you are Isla. From now on, you will dress as your sister and the wedding shall continue."

Arthur's eyes widened. His teeth began to shake, either in fury or in humiliation, he was not sure. "Th-that's completely ridiculous!" he screamed at her. "You…you want me to…to _what?_ Dress as Isla and marry that man?! Are you out of your _mind?!_"

His father shot an angry glare towards him once more. "Do not speak to your mother with that sort of tone!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room, making it louder than a lion's roar. He cleared his throat and continued to speak. "You will do this for us. You're not even interested in women, anyway, so you might as well dress like the girl you are," he said, the cruel insult stinging like a sharp slap across Arthur's cheek.

His mother spoke once more. "Do this for the kingdom, Arthur," she said. "We cannot embarrass the family by cutting off this wedding. As far as anyone is concerned, Isla is still alive. Do this for _her_, Arthur…I recall her being curious about…blue skies, was it?" His mother wore a sly smile on her face. Using Isla's death as a tool to get Arthur to buckle to her whim…it was cruel…but it was working.

"I…I…" Arthur began to say, but his voice wouldn't allow for anything to come out.

"Take him to the dressing room!" his father ordered the servants. More hands and arms grabbed him, dragging him off towards another room in the castle. He struggling in their grips, but he wasn't giving it his all. Instead, he looked towards his parents with pleading eyes, eyes that asked, "Why? Why would you do this to me?"

Arthur was placed in front of three mirrors, all next to each other in a semicircle around his body, as the servants got to work on him.

They stripped him of all his clothes despite his protests. He stood there, stark naked, completely humiliated at his situation. Arthur remained as stubborn as ever. The undergarments were quickly draped over him. They were like a loose, white gown over him. It was incredibly womanly and quite small. Tight even. Next was the dress, which was draped over his head as he kicked and squirmed. There were just too many _arms_ holding him down. The skirt of the dress was in place, but his arms had yet to be placed into the sleeves. That was because the worst part was yet to come.

A tight corset of Isla's was being wrapped around his waist. Arthur could already feel the tightness this item would bring him. They started tying the corset up near his waist. He could hardly _breathe_. The cruel device cut off his breath. His stomach and waist were being squeezed together so tightly it was almost too painful to handle. More and more of the corset was tied up. His lower ribs felt compressed in the tough fabric of the garment. The only thing that fit loosely was near his upper chest, where the woman's breasts would normally be. Other servants decided to stuff that part with clumps of fabric. Arthur's face blushed at the indignity of it all.

The rest of the dress covered up the corset and his arms were placed into the sleeves. His hair was being pulled back tightly. A wig, which had the same style of his sister's hair, was placed atop is head. A hand grabbed his face as they applied white powder and other forms of makeup on him. The fingers dug into the skin of his cheeks. His was in pain all over.

Finally, Isla's jewelry was placed upon him. A necklace, a few bracelets, and, last but not least, her engagement ring. It was a tight squeeze around his finger, much like the corset around his waist.

When the servants were done, Arthur looked towards the mirror in shock. He wasn't pretty, that he was certain of. But he did look a bit similar to his sister, if anything. His eyes stung with the onslaught of tears, threatening to spill down his face. He clenched his fists at the indignity of his situation. He was dressed like a woman…

His father's insult came back into his mind. _You're not even interested in women, anyway, so you might as well dress like the girl you are._ What did his father know?! Just because he hadn't fancied any women did not mean he was interested in _men_. It did not mean he was a woman himself!

The dress flowed over his frame. He loosened his hands, which had begun to shake by this point. A tear had made its way down his face.

He would be marrying Alfred. _Alfred_. He would be forced into an arranged marriage with someone he already despised more than anyone else in the world.

His sister was gone, he was humiliated beyond belief, and he would be sent away from his homeland of England forever to marry a man he hated…

* * *

Alfred looked out the window of his room expectantly. He was praying with all his might no one would show up. Isla was to come any day now, and he didn't look forward to her arrival…

It was raining outside. Alfred never really minded the rain, but it disappointed him because he loved being outside. After the rain, however, the surrounding land would be a luscious green. Alfred sighed to himself and wondered if the kingdom of England was such a beautiful green color…

* * *

**A/N:** So this was basically the introductory chapter :) There was a big focus on Arthur, yes, I know. I tend to focus on him a lot ^^; But future chapters shall incorporate Alfred a lot more for sure :)

Also, I tend to start of my USUK fics in Arthur's POV...I think I've developed a style...xD


	2. Chapter 2

**The Secret**

**Chapter 2**

Alfred was relieved. Word from his messenger stated that Isla would be arriving in two days. Although he was still nervous about meeting Isla, the extra two days gave him time to relax before their marriage.

The rain had subsided and the sun had made its way through the clouds. The air was warm and humid from the earlier rainfall, so it was perfect weather to go outside. Alfred was glad to have a window that looked out toward the castle grounds. He squinted and tried to see his special clearing beyond the trees. When he spotted the clearing and the beautiful lake, he quickly ran towards his dresser and pulled out a change of clothes.

He was going swimming! Alfred hardly ever got the opportunity to do so. His parents enjoyed restricting him and his twin brother, Matthew, to the castle. He hardly ever got to venture outside, his mom deeming it too dangerous. Alfred was constantly confined to stuffy rooms. His bedroom lacked anything enjoyable other than his precious window. If he wasn't staring out his window, he was then being taught his lessons in the classroom, listening to the droning of an aristocrat in the meeting room, or eating at the awkwardly long table in the dining room.

Alfred stuffed his change of clothes into a bag and proceeded to sneak downstairs. Everything would echo in the castle, so he would usually be caught. He felt as if he couldn't even walk through his own house without _someone_ accusing him of wanting to go outside. He was once confined in his room for an entire week for being caught climbing trees.

As Alfred was walking down the hallway, he passed by a certain door. The room, he knew, was unoccupied. The door had an imposing look to it. The doorknob was brass, chilling to the touch, and there were carvings along the edges of the door frame, sending shivers down Alfred's spine. The carvings looked like monsters to him, which, although he would never admit it, scared him to no end. But besides the door itself, it was the purpose of the room that frightened him the most.

This was to be the room he shared with Isla.

As soon as Alfred and Isla were married, they were to be sent to this room to consummate their marriage. It was tradition. Relatives would send both the bride and groom to their new bedroom to perform the act. Alfred hated the thought of it. Nothing in his home was private. If you were to stand about ten feet away, every word whispered in his room had the chance of being heard.

It wasn't as if Alfred hadn't had sex before. There were a few girls he had met on his ventures outdoors into the local towns that he had slept with. Sometimes it was even considered beneficial for a man to become sexually active before marriage. But, he had genuinely liked those girls. They were all very nice, always blushing, and yet strangely forward when he met them. Alfred wasn't so sure that his parents were aware that he had slept with others before, but that hardly mattered. What did matter was that it would be his obligation to sleep with Isla after their wedding. And he was not ready for that.

How could you just tell someone to sleep with another? Especially someone you've never met? How could you force that bond? Everything Alfred wanted to believe about sex and love were always crushed by his parents and their traditions. Sex was purely for procreation. The only reason they wanted him to marry Isla was to produce an heir, an heir that would one day rule the United Kingdom of England and America. It would give his family all the riches they had lost, all the power they had taken away, all the land they could ever need…

Call him a romanticist, but Alfred believed that there had to be something _more_ to sex than just producing children. There had to be more to marriage than just money and power. If there wasn't, then all those fairytales that he had been told as a child were a waste…The ones where the hero would valiantly rescue a damsel in distress. The ones where a peasant woman was found by a rich prince and they married out of love, not because her family was wealthy!

But Alfred was resigned to his duty. He would sleep with her one night and be done with it. Isla would get pregnant and produce an heir. His parents would be appeased. But still…he had never even met the woman before. What if she was cruel? What if she was bad-tempered? She could even look like a witch…not that Alfred thought that mattered in the case of love, but this wasn't a love story at the moment. Most importantly, what if they never learned to love each other? Even in a respectable way? They could end up hating each other for the rest of their lives! They would have to do everything together, too! Always walk, talk, eat, and sleep together… If he ended up being with someone who hated him, or who he hated himself, Alfred wasn't sure he could handle it.

Alfred was determined, however, to find at least one good feature about Isla, whether that be a physical trait or a personality trait. He would need to cling to that one thing and hoped the marriage would work itself out in years to come.

The door was mocking him now, so Alfred quickly shuffled away and escaped to the outdoors. The water awaited him.

* * *

The remainder of the trip to the kingdom of America had been silent and tense. His parents rode in the same carriage as him, both of them facing him was while he bowed his head and looked at his lap, hoping that he could feign interest in the fabric of his dress.

_His dress_. His _wedding_ dress.

He still wasn't used to wearing a plain dress. His legs would shiver when the air was cold. His neck and collarbone were practically always exposed. He was used to trousers, to high collars, not… not _this_. His waist continued to ache. Arthur could barely eat without feeling the strain of the corset press against his stomach. He also had trouble breathing and was constantly stifling yawns because he couldn't puff out his chest to take in a deep breath or else his ribs would ache.

Arthur's neck was the only part of his body that hung limp. His other muscles were tense, feeling the eyes of his parents on him as they approached the castle. His new home.

"Lift your head, boy," his father commanded, nudging him on his leg. Arthur complied, glaring at his father as he did so. He felt an object being placed on his head.

"Wha-?" he nearly shouted, his vision suddenly going white. He felt the object on his head and realized it was a veil. The lace was thick and he could hardly make anyone out. Well, this _was_ his wedding day, so he might as well look the part.

Arthur said no more, keeping his embarrassment to himself as he toyed with the ring on his finger. His mother's icy hand suddenly grabbed his own and yanked the ring off. Arthur made a grunt of pain since the ring had been very tight and hurt when it was put on or taken off.

"This will be placed on your finger by Alfred at the altar," she said, and nothing more. Arthur mumbled a small "hmph" and decidedly ignored his parents the rest of the way there.

It was late afternoon as they approached the castle gates. Although the Jones family had lost their fortune, they continued to live in the lap of luxury. It was all for appearances, Arthur was sure.

The carriage came to a stop and servants approached the royal family. Arthur constantly averted his eyes, but it wasn't as if he could see anyway. He felt himself being guided out of the vehicle and onto the rocky path leading to the castle entrance. He wobbled as he began to take his first steps on the uneven ground, unused to wearing heels, another item of clothing his parents deemed necessary for him to wear. His ankles would bend and twist with every step and he felt servants grab his arms as he was led to the door. Arthur wanted to yelp in pain, but he had to refrain from using his voice from now on. His parents explained that he would pretend to be a mute for the time being.

Arthur couldn't understand why his parents thought this would work. He knew that in America it was customary for the parents to reside in the house of the groom for a few weeks after the marriage to ensure that everything was proper and settled. Arthur knew that if the scheme was meant to fail, his parents would try their best to get out of the castle as soon as possible. He would just have to pretend until they left, and then all would be revealed. Arthur would probably be hanged and his parents would probably have safely returned to the kingdom of England, the power of the kingdom of America under their wing regardless of what was taking place now.

Speaking of now, Arthur felt himself being led through the door. It was about time, too. He felt as if he had been standing there for hours. But then again, he had to wait for the guests to get settled inside so they could be prepared for when the bride entered. The wedding would be a quiet one. With such rebels on the loose, it was a bad idea to advertise to _too_ many nobles. Only the most important people were there, the ones that his parents wanted to save face in front of.

Upon stepping into the castle entrance, the sound of trumpets and music played. A bouquet of flowers was thrust into his hands as he was pushed forward. And that's when Arthur saw him.

Alfred. The man he would be marrying. _Marrying._ The music played, but Arthur did not budge from his spot. His heart was beating furiously in his chest and he willed it to slow down. He wasn't ready for marriage! And this trick, this charade…how long could it possibly last? Arthur felt the eyes of the other nobles on him as he stood there. He scrunched his eyes and wished his face wasn't so red, not recalling that his face was currently veiled. His hands shook and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He almost wanted to cry at this humiliating situation.

Arthur tried looking up to get a better look at Alfred, but he honestly couldn't see. He had to bite back his anger. This man…this cruel man, thinking he could make Isla his bride. Arthur wanted to charge up the carpet lining his path and punch the lousy bastard in the face…but he couldn't. Not now. When he was caught, which he knew he would be, Arthur would be sure to punch him then in order to reclaim what little dignity he had before Alfred had him killed.

Alfred saw Isla shaking, the bouquet of flowers gripped too tightly for it to escape notice. Alfred let out a shaky breath. _This is it_, he thought as he saw Isla's father begin to lead her toward the altar.

His brother Matthew was by his side. Alfred clutched his hand, needy for some form of comfort. He could only confide in his twin brother how he felt about his whole situation. Matthew was easy to talk to because he always listened to matter how long Alfred rambled. There had only been one situation when Matthew had talked for as long as he usually did, and that time it was to complain about what a lousy brother he had. But this was no time to be thinking about upsetting memories. Alfred had to be thinking about what was happening _now_.

Clutched in his hand was the ring, given to him by a servant as soon as Isla's mother had stepped off the carriage. After the servant had been given the ring by Isla's mother, she ran inside the castle before the bride could step inside. She placed the ring in Alfred's hand and offered her comforting words before rushing back to her post. That was the nice thing about the servant girl…she was always so sweet.

Fondling the ring in his hand, Alfred continued to stare at his bride. Her figure was…stiff. That's the only word Alfred could think of at the moment. Her hourglass figure looked forced, as if someone had stuck her in a too-tight corset. Her shoulders were broad, much broader than what other women's shoulders looked like. Isla's hair framed her face, much like the servant girl who had handed him the ring. Unfortunately for Alfred, Isla's face was covered by a veil. However, he continued to eye the rest of her body.

She was thin, but not in a womanly sort of way. She looked like she had muscles, but they were tightly bound rather than being big and noticeable. Perhaps it was because Isla seemed so _tense_. Isla had a small bust and an even smaller waist. Alfred wrapped his free arm around his own waist, feeling bad that Isla was wearing such a small corset.

As soon as Isla approached his side, Alfred unclenched his hand from his brother's and tried to see past the veil of his future wife. Her head was bent, however, so all hope of seeing her face was lost for the moment.

The priest began to speak. He proclaimed powerful sayings, detailing the importance of the marriage and how future generations would look upon this day and speak of its great impact on the United Kingdom of England and America. This only made Alfred more nervous. He felt a nudge by the priest, who looked towards his ring.

"O-oh!" Alfred exclaimed, quickly taking Isla's hand and placing the ring on her finger. It was a tight fit, but he got it on nonetheless. The priest began to speak again.

"You must say your vows, sir," he said to Alfred with a mocking tone in his voice. The rest of their audience laughed.

"Uh, right!" _Shit_, Alfred thought, mentally berating himself. He hadn't thought of his vows yet! He didn't know he would even need them since they're meant for someone you love rather than for someone who you're being forced to marry. "Um, Isla…" he began, "I…I know that this marriage is…well, really important. You know, to you and, um, your parents…" Alfred was beginning to fumble. He couldn't think straight, not with all this pressure on him. "I want to say that, well, I think…I would make a good husband, and…I'm sure that, in time, we'll be…happy together." Alfred ended his awkward speech there. He looked towards Isla, ready to hear what she had to say.

Which was nothing, apparently. She just stood there. Everyone was looking towards her, ready to hear her speak. But she remained as silent as ever. Isla pulled back her hand and placed it back on the bouquet, which she continued to grip tightly.

Alfred shuffled his feet awkwardly. Isla's father, who had taken a place to the priest's right, whispered something in his ear. The priest had a look of confusion at first, but simply shrugged his shoulders and made an announcement. "It appears that the bride cannot speak," he said. Alfred's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't talk? Was she mute, or was she just sick? Would Alfred's wife never be able to speak with him? She probably couldn't read or write, so all communication between them would be nonexistent, and as much as Alfred enjoyed being listened to, he wasn't sure if he could handle _this_.

The priest continued to drone on about happy marriages, until Alfred heard the key words he had been worried over for the past few days. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," he said, folding his hands in front of him.

Alfred looked towards Isla. Was he expected to lift her veil? Alfred saw Isla visibly tense at the words. He would just need to be calm, that's all.

Alfred mustered the softest smile he could and gently began to inch his hands near her veil. But before he could do that, a hand was nearly pressed against his face. Isla's hand, that is. She lifted her hand, the knuckles near Alfred's lips. So she wanted him to…kiss her hand? Alfred took the hand and placed a gentle kiss on top before Isla yanked her hand away and clenched it into a fist. Alfred inwardly groaned. How were they supposed to consummate their marriage if she was acting like this? They only need a single night, and Alfred wanted it to be special, at least in some way.

_Tonight_, Alfred thought worriedly then. He had forgotten about it just now. Alfred looked around and saw the nobles cheering as he took his wife's hand and walked down the aisle they had set up in the main hall. If only all of these _eyes_ would just stop staring! The men were all making lewd faces and had predatory smiles. He averted their gaze and continued to lead Isla away into the dining hall. They were going to eat first before they…before they did…

Alfred couldn't even think about it properly anymore. He felt a tugging on his arm and noticed that Isla was trying to release herself from his grip. Alfred let her hand go and saw her walk straight towards her parents, throwing the bouquet hastily into the air. Nobles were surrounding him now and he was whisked away into the dining room with the other men as the women from the audience followed Isla. He tried to get another glimpse of his wife before she left his sight until tonight.

The women continued to follow "Isla" to the bed chamber. Arthur, however, was not interested in such a room. As soon as he was five meters from his parents, Arthur felt the women's arms tug in his own and lead him. As soon as he reached his mother and father, he walked between them, muttering a mere, "Happy?" before the arms lead him into another room.

A bedroom.

Oh God.

* * *

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and twiddled his fingers. He had completely forgotten about _consummating_ his marriage. If he wasn't caught tonight, he didn't know how long he could keep this up. No doubt Alfred would force him down and try to take him then and there, as if he were a helpless woman.

_What if that woman was Isla, Arthur?_ he wondered to himself. The thought was too terrifying to consider. That bastard, that git, taking his sister's virginity…it was too hard a thought to bear. However, this only made Arthur more aware of his _own_ virginity. He hadn't slept with anyone before, and he honestly didn't know the…rituals that occurred during the process. His father had mercilessly tried to set him up with some of the servant girls. "For practice" he said. But his father's little idea disgusted him to no end, so he would end up merely having a conversation with the woman until dawn had risen.

He also didn't have much practice kissing. He had tried it a few times with the servants who were willing to sleep with him, but…it didn't _feel_ right. Arthur wasn't sure why, but he assumed it was because the servants were a lower class, and lower class lips might not be the same as those of royalty. Arthur had always figured that once his parents arranged a marriage between him and another woman of nobility, the sensations would be different. That maybe his father was wrong in assuming he wasn't interested in women and that it all just depended on her class. Or maybe, and Arthur always scolded himself for thinking this…maybe it was because he wasn't _in love_ yet. But in his world, love like that just didn't exist.

It had been a close call at the altar. Arthur was proud of his quick thinking to use his hand rather than have Alfred reveal his face. Honestly, he was frightened that everyone would quickly find out about his parents' scheme as soon as they all saw his face. It wasn't feminine in the slightest. Arthur was sure people would realize he was a man.

Arthur still felt the tingling sensation on the top of his hand, the exact place where Alfred had kissed him. It had only been a quick little peck, but the action nearly sent shivers down Arthur's spine. These shivers, however, were ones of disgust. That man, that bastard had kissed him. And Arthur was only too afraid of what other places Alfred would try to kiss tonight…

A knock at the door was heard. Arthur immediately bent his head and waited for his husband, like the proper, "obedient" wife should. Alfred was pushed into the room by the other nobles, a little light headed after dining with such overly excited men. The room was lit with many lanterns. As a matter of fact, the room could almost be called bright. Alfred wasn't sure if this was good or bad…he'd have to blow out all the candles if she didn't want him to see her when they…they…

Alfred shook his head and moved to nicer thoughts. He should probably start to talk to her…Isla. His wife. _Oh goodness_, was the only thing Alfred could think to himself. Pulling at his collar, Alfred gave a bright smile and waved, saying, "Hi!" as happily as he could.

No response.

Well, that figured. "U-um…so…I'm Alfred, although, you probably already knew that…" he said, his voice trailing off as he continued to stare at Isla's form. Her head was bent down and her hands were tightly clasping one another.

"Ok, so," Alfred said, clasping his hands together anxiously. "Consummating the marriage…um, should I, um, turn off all the lights?" he asked, gesturing towards all of the lanterns lighting the room. He mentally slapped himself. He could be much more romantic than this, if only he wasn't so _nervous_. Sighing, he sat down to the left of Isla on the edge of the bed.

"Look," he said calmly. "This night…it was nerve-wracking for both of us. We've never met, and now we're expected to take such a huge step in our relationship…" Isla crossed her arms and turned her head away. Alfred sighed once more and looked down into his lap. Mustering a bright smile, he continued, "But it's like I said at the altar. I'll make a good husband, I promise!" There was, of course, no response. Although this made the situation more awkward, Alfred was never one to back down.

"I really like your dress," he said, gesturing to the garment Isla was wearing. She crossed her arms tighter, if such a thing were possible. It was almost too much for Alfred to handle. She didn't appear to want to get to know him if her tense body was anything to go by.

Alfred grasped one of the clenched arms with one hand and turned her head to look at him with another. He needed to make her more comfortable. "Can I take off your veil?" he asked softly. She was probably just as nervous as he was, so he tried his best to act composed and comforting. Isla then shook her arm free and turned her body away from him.

This wasn't working.

Alfred decided to be a little forward. He turned her head, _again_, and held it in both of his hands. Before she could swing away, he took a peck at her exposed cheek, only to be slapped in the face. "Ow!" he exclaimed, holding his hand to his burning cheek. "Ok, ok! Sorry!" he said. "How…how do you expect to consummate the marriage if you won't let me kiss you?" Alfred asked suddenly. His heart was beating quickly. He was already imagining his life with Isla, filled with unhappiness and gloom.

Isla promptly pushed him off the bed for asking such a question.

He landed on the ground with an "oomph!" and now rubbed his sore bottom. "Sorry for asking that too…" he said, looking away. "But you know…" he began, "i-it's not like I'm not nervous about this either, Isla." Alfred saw the body tense as soon as he said her name.

Arthur looked toward the man on the floor now. It was the first time Alfred had said her name from when he had walked into the room. He wasn't sure if he was used to being addressed as his sister, and nor did he think he liked hearing her name on Alfred's lips.

The man was still on the floor, looking up at him now. Arthur wasn't sure what to make of the man. Deep down, he wanted to hate him, and he _did_ hate him for many reasons…but from the sound of his voice, Alfred didn't want to just take ownership of Isla's body. He wanted Isla to feel comfortable…but Arthur didn't want to be touched by the man. He didn't want to be touched by _any_ man. Not only was he incredibly uncomfortable, but he was certain that if Alfred continued with any ministrations that his cover would be blown.

"I'm sorry, Isla…" Alfred said, looking up at Arthur. "One night," he said. "One night of sex and then you produce an heir and then I never bother you again," Alfred stated bluntly. Arthur looked towards the man with wide eyes. "I'll make sure you're comfortable…I just…my parents…" he began, mumbling to himself as he averted his eyes to the ground. Arthur continued to listen. "My parents want an heir so the family line can continue. That's it. If you want to be as far away from me as possible for the rest of your life, give me this one night…just to appease my parents…"

Arthur's fists clenched. It was almost as if he was just an object now. An object that could produce a child for this bastard's sick parents. Did they really think they could do this to Isla?!

"Or…" Alfred began. Arthur was listening intently once more. "Or we could say we did it…and that, well, you're sick, right?" he asked. Arthur wasn't sure whether to shake or nod his head. "You can't speak, so maybe that means you can't produce any children…at least, that's the excuse we could make up, if you want…" he said in a voice so sincere it nearly convinced Arthur that this boy was innocent.

_Nearly_ convinced.

Who knew if Alfred was secretly just tricking him, playing games before he was grabbed and forced onto the bed? Arthur huffed out a sigh of his own, the first response Alfred had heard all day.

Alfred assumed that meant "yes". Quickly, he pushed himself up and sat back down on the bed. Looking towards Isla, he asked, "Can I at least see your face?" Arthur looked up and gulped nervously. This was something he couldn't hide forever. Carefully, Alfred lifted the veil off of Isla's head and took in the sight of her face.

Well. Her face was certainly…different.

Alfred couldn't help but notice just how _masculine_ Isla looked. She quickly turned her head away. It looked like she had been glaring. Although she had been fast, however, Alfred had still managed to get a pretty good assessment of what she looked like. Her face had a strong jaw. The hair that cupped her face looked much too delicate to match her scowl. And her _eyebrows_…they were enormous! Alfred desperately wanted to point and laugh, but now was not the appropriate time, especially since he would be married to someone so…

She wasn't _ugly_, that was for sure. If she were a man, she would almost be considered handsome. But this was his wife now, and she most certainly wouldn't enjoy being called a man. Besides, Alfred realized that Isla probably thought herself ugly. He would need to compliment her, make her feel special about her appearance, if only he could find something to flatter her with. Alfred recalled back to plan to find one feature that he liked about Isla. "Hey, look at me…" he said, wanted to peer at her face and see if he could find something he liked in her appearance.

Isla turned her head reluctantly. And that's when Alfred caught the sight of her eyes. Isla's eyes were a beautiful green. It reminded him so much of the luscious grass outside his castle. It reminded him of the outdoors, the vast tracks of land he loved and cherished. _This is it…_ Alfred thought to himself. _Her eyes…I can hold on to her eyes…_

Alfred now had his compliment! "Y-your eyes…your eyes are really pretty…" he said, pointing at them and smiling. Surely Isla would blush, bat her eyelids and turn away with a small smile on her face.

He was then promptly punched in the arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed again, his hand coming up to cover the sore spot. "I was just giving you compliment, sheesh!" Isla was wearing an even bigger scowl then before. However, her head _was_ turned as he had predicted…and there was actually a pink tinge on her cheeks! It was almost…cute. Alfred found himself smiling despite his sore arm. She had some swing.

Arthur turned away from the man. He didn't like being called pretty in the least. He was a _man_ for goodness sake! Arthur had almost been hoping Alfred would realize this already so his parents could get in trouble as well. Almost was the key word. But he never thought Alfred would call him _pretty_, even if it was just his eyes. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Arthur attributed the red on his cheeks to more humiliation.

Alfred began to chuckle to himself. He gestured towards the room divider, where Isla could change out of her wedding dress and into her nightgown. "Why don't you get your nightgown on? We'll go with my plan and say we consummated the marriage…is that ok?"

Arthur nodded mutely and walked behind the folding object. He saw his change of clothes on a stool, one of Isla's old nightgowns. He had to keep the corset on, or else Alfred might notice his lack of a figure. That would be uncomfortable tonight. He heard Alfred's shuffling body on the other side of the room divider, most likely changing himself. More pink tinged his cheeks at the thought that they were both undressing in the same room. At least the room divider gave them privacy. And…and at least Alfred had been, dare he say it, sympathetic tonight.

He had originally thought Alfred would force himself on Isla, but now… Arthur could see that wasn't the case. The boy was just as nervous as his sister had been. He didn't seem cruel in the slightest.

But Arthur knew better. He had to keep himself aware. This Alfred could one day snap and become a complete jerk. It was only a matter of time before Arthur found a thousand bad qualities about the man.

Walking out in his nightgown, Arthur placed two hands over his head to make sure his wig was still in place. Alfred was already in bed, his bare back turned towards Arthur. By the sound of his breathing and the look of the soft rising up and down of the blanket, he was nearly asleep. Arthur turned towards every lantern and blew out the light, until darkness consumed the room with the exception of one candle by the bedside.

He slowly lifted the covers and placed himself at the very edge of the bed. He didn't want to go near Alfred at all. He didn't want to touch him, see him, or anything else for that matter. Arthur turned his back towards Alfred as well.

"Goodnight, Isla…" Alfred murmured sleepily. He felt the dip in the bed from when she had laid down and could feel some of her body heat begin to warm the area behind him.

Arthur merely laid his head on his pillow and blew the last candle out, letting the night overtake the new couple's room.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that was a fun chapter to write. I know I touched on the subject of sex quite a lot, but I'll just forewarn you all that I do not write smut and the inclusion of sex in this story is merely to move the plot forward. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I hope you are all enjoying the story so far :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Ah, I've received many comments about Arthur's speaking…or lack of speaking, I should say. So, I'll just say this:

1. Please do not take offense that Arthur is being considered a mute for the time being. It's an excuse his parents are trying to pull, but then again, his parents have not specifically said, "Our daughter is a mute". They're excuse is, "She cannot speak", so Alfred and everyone else is just assuming she is a mute. Either that, or she's sick with the flu or something. It's a different time period and no one's thoughts in the story reflect my own.

2. Some have said that this idea isn't exactly clever. I honestly could not think of another way to excuse Arthur's voice. I didn't want him to have a high-pitched, fake, girly voice because I think that would be comedic and give him away way too quickly, which is not where I want this story to head.

With all that in mind, I hope you enjoy this next chapter~

* * *

**The Secret**

**Chapter 3**

Arthur's sleep had been filled with restlessness. It was so hard to relax and close his eyes when that man, that _man_, he had just married was right next to him on their bed. Their _shared_ bed. Arthur didn't think he could take anymore of this. The room had been pitch black when he blew out the fire from all the lanterns with the exception of the glimmer of light that entered the bedroom through the doorway. All Arthur could hear were Alfred's light snores and steady breathing. The sound was rhythmic and probably could have caused Arthur to drift off to sleep if it hadn't been for his nerves.

He couldn't help being nervous about the whole situation. A lot had happened in the past few days, and more so during his own wedding day. This one night he shared with Alfred was the start of many nights he would share with the man. Questions began to boil in Arthur's mind as he pictured his life in the future. What if Alfred never discovered his true gender? Was this to be what the rest of his life was like? Would he never take off his womanly garments? Would he never be able to sleep alone? Would he never step foot in England again? His home?

Arthur didn't want to think of the answers to these questions. They only caused his heart to ache more and more. He practically stayed awake that whole night until weariness had forced him into a deep slumber.

The sun shone behind a curtain that covered the only window in the room. The rays struck Arthur's back and warmed it. The rise in temperature combined with the soft light illuminating the room began to wake Arthur from his sleep. Scrunching his eyes and keeping his body perfectly still, Arthur listened to the sounds surrounding him. He was still in a sleeplike daze, allowing the warmth of the sheets and the comfortable dip in the bed lull him back to the land of dreams.

Breathing in an out slowly, Arthur listened for the sounds of another person in the room. Perhaps Alfred had not woken up yet and was still beside him on the bed. Straining his ears, Arthur tried to hear the sounds of any movement whatsoever. All he could hear, however, was soft humming. It was obvious that someone else was in the room, or at the very least outside it, but that wasn't what surprised Arthur the most. No, it was the fact that the humming sounded like a woman's voice…it was so familiar…it almost sounded like…

"Isla!" Arthur shouted, sitting up in bed immediately, eyes searching the room for the source of the humming. He was so sure it had been her voice, it was much too familiar. His heart was beating against his ribs at a frantic pace as he threw his head in all directions, searching for his sister. His eyes were wide and he could still hear the soft melody in his head, but it had faded in reality, leaving the room in complete silence. Only Arthur's thoughts played the hum now.

His body, shaken from having adrenaline course through it so early in the day, tensed for a moment before finally relaxing. Arthur slumped against the headboard of the bed and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply again and allowed the reality of his situation to seep back in. _I must have been hearing things…_ he thought to himself as he rested his head.

Arthur was just about to try and get back to sleep, despite the fact that the sun had already risen, until another thought raced into his mind. _Alfred!_

Arthur quickly turned his head to see if Alfred was still resting beside him. His cover would be completely blown if the git had heard his voice!

But…there was no one there. That side of the bed was just a lump of tangled sheets, and no more. Arthur sighed with relief. It appeared that the man had woken before him and had taken off to who knows where. At least no one had heard Arthur speak for the time being…

Now that left Arthur all alone in their bedroom. Glancing back and forth, he decided it was high time he get out of bed before he had any more panic attacks. Arthur went behind the room divider to find no change of clothes. Arthur had figured that at least a servant would have come in by now to give him something to change into. Even _Alfred_ could have given him something to wear.

Stuck in his nightgown, his horrible, lacy nightgown, Arthur trudged back to the bed, sitting on the edge and resting his head in his hands. His wig was falling off and was in desperate need of brushing. The tips of the wig were now tickling his chin and the back of his neck. It wasn't like real hair. It wasn't soft or easy to run fingers through. It was thick and coarse, but at least it maintained its figure well, despite its new tangles.

An eternity seemed to pass before someone finally decided to enter the room. Looking up, Arthur saw his parents glide forth into his bedchamber, sticking their noses up at the state of the bare room. It didn't have much furnishing due to Alfred's family being quite poor at the moment.

"Your hair…" was the first thing his mother muttered out of her mouth. She grabbed his chin with her thumb and forefinger, pinching where her nails bit into his skin. She forced him to look up at her while she produced a brush in her other hand. Lady Kirkland began to roughly brush the wig, stuck on his head with who knew how many pins, causing his real hair to be tugged as well. Arthur held in his grunts at the pain as best he could when he felt his hair being pulled out of its own socket.

His father began to pace the room up and down, eyeing the bed with a suspicious look on his face. The bed was messy on Alfred's side, but quite tidy on Arthur's since he had stayed still during his restless night, uncomfortable with a stranger in his bed.

"Did you…?" his father asked Arthur, his voice trailing off as he finally decided to look his son in the face. Arthur knew what he was implying, but he wouldn't speak out of spite. His parents wanted him mute? Then so be it.

The nails on his cheeks bit harder while his mother stated, quite sternly, "Your father asked you a question, _Isla_."

Arthur wanted to ring her neck for calling him by his sister's name, but he was in no position to do so. She had finished brushing his hair but continued to hold his face in place. But Arthur was a stubborn person and refused to let his parents win this battle. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and bit down to prevent any further noise to be emitted from him.

His father merely got angry. He gritted his teeth and stroked his beard, frustrated and trying to think of what to do. His son was stubborn. He had always been stubborn whenever it came to obeying him. "I want to know…" he said, trying to suppress his rage. He was an easily angered man. "…whether or not that bastard fucked you! Do you understand?!" he ended up shouting, letting his temper take control. His wife letting go of Arthur's head, he grabbed his son by the shoulder roughly and put his face right into Arthur's so closely that their noses touched. He could look very menacing when he wanted to.

"Give…me…your…answer…" he said slowly, staring Arthur right in the eyes. Arthur stared right back, acting braver than he truly felt.

"And what if he did?" he answered his father with a question of his own, not willing to back down. A sharp sting fell upon on his right cheek as he felt his father slap him. Rubbing the sore spot tenderly, Arthur almost felt bad for doing the same to Alfred the night before. He glared up at his father, suppressing his own rage to lash out then and there.

Lady Kirkland faced her husband with a bored expression and said, "He couldn't have, or else out little secret would no longer be a secret." Her husband stared at her for a moment before nodding in agreement, having calmed down. But still, why were the bed sheets…?

Arthur sensed his father looking down into the bed sheets once more. He followed his eyes until he came upon what looked like a damp spot. Upon further inspection, it looked to be a spot of cream near Alfred's sheets, as if someone had dripped it on the bed recently. His father gave him an accusatory look. Arthur's eyes widened and he immediately tried to get out of his parents' grasp before they…

"You slept with the bastard, didn't you?!" his father screamed at him, both hands clutching the sides of his head.

"I-I swear, I didn't! I don't know where that stain-"

"Don't you lie to your own father, you worthless fag!" he interrupted, screaming and starting to shake Arthur.

With a well placed kick to the stomach, Arthur managed to get his father off of him as he scrambled to the other side of the room. He leaned against the wall, opposite his parents, his chest beating wildly. He was near the window now. If only he could inch closer, he could just escape and run free from this dreadful place…

"Stop it," his mother ordered to her husband, looking at Arthur as she said this. Her voice had an unusual way of halting activity, having a stern, commanding undertone with everything she said. "It doesn't matter at his point."

Lady Kirkland began to take strides across the room to where Arthur stood. When they were directly in front of each other, she began to speak again. "If Alfred knows, you are to make sure your gender stays hidden from everyone else for a little more than two weeks. We will have everything packed by that time. Have sex with the boy as many times as you like, but…" She bent down, eye level with Arthur. "If our cover is blown, you will pay dearly."

She picked her head back up and began to glide her way out of the room. Arthur's father, a bit confused at the turn of events, followed her out.

Arthur leaned against the wall for a while before slumping to the ground, tired, with his head between his knees. He desperately wanted to cry, but he had done that more than enough lately, so all that came out were dry sobs and curses. He breathed in shakily before looking around the room again. He would have to either stay in the bedroom or wander out in his nightgown. He was still wearing the corset, so his figure wouldn't give away his gender that easily…

But it would be utterly humiliating. The nightgown was more like underwear than anything else…

Arthur had no choice. Standing up and walking towards the window, Arthur looked out into the grounds before him. Sighing, he lifted one leg up and over the ledge, feeling around for a something soft underneath his feet. When he felt his toes touch the edge of a bush, he quickly lifted his other leg and brought it through the window, dangling by his arms, which still grasping the window's edge. He let go quickly, his whole body landing into the scratchy leaves of the bush below.

Arthur wasn't sure what he was planning to do at this point. He could try to run away, but it didn't seem as if that plan would work. Settling both bare feet on the stones and grass below him, Arthur trudged forward into the green land, the land his parents had strived to own for so long, and began to wander.

* * *

The grass had started out wet with dew, but the sun had all but dried it after Arthur trudged for at least an hour. He found himself in the woods, hot and sweaty after walking around for so long. His gown was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and his corset wasn't making it any easier to breathe. The fabric that had been clumped to form breasts was especially irritating, rubbing against his skin constantly. However, it was his feet that ached the most.

The tiniest of rocks would nick the bottom of his foot at any time. The dirt was getting in between his toes and it was especially hard to climb over the roots springing from the trees. He would jolt up whenever he thought something was climbing on his leg, and half the time something was.

The sun was beating down on his exposed neck. Isla's hair had been quite short and Arthur really regretted telling her not to grow it out. Arthur was, at this point, completely miserable.

It wasn't that he couldn't take such extreme conditions. He would sometimes go hunting for pure sport. But at least he had proper clothing, a steed to ride, a cooler temperature to travel in, etc. Now, Arthur was feeling very weary. He would lean against the trees to catch his breath at times. He was just so _tired_. Tired of everything that had happened to him so far, and he wanted to escape. He knew Alfred's parents would probably deem him a loon for going out like this in nothing but a nightgown, but he honestly didn't care at this point. All he wanted was to be as far away from that castle as possible, even if only for a short while.

After brushing aside some branches, Arthur spotted the glimmer of a lake before him. He licked his dry lips, his stomach grumbling. He hadn't eaten or drunken anything that morning and he was terribly thirsty. Making his way towards the body of water, Arthur thought he heard something. He stopped in his tracks and listened, but heard nothing. Apparently, he was hearing things today.

Taking a few more tentative steps forward, Arthur was sure he heard the sound of water splashing. It made sense, he was clearly by a lake, but the waters looked too calm to be making the splashing sound on their own. So…was something in the water?

Arthur walked toward a tree and poked his head around it to spy on the entire lake. Sure enough, Arthur spotted a man swimming around in its waters. Arthur almost decided to turn back. If it was someone from the castle, they would surely spot him and bring him back! But…Arthur listened closely again, the voice of the man sounding so _familiar…_

Alfred?!

Rushing forward until his feet were at the lake's edge, Arthur stood and stared at his husband thrashing around like an idiot. Alfred was shouting and wooping with glee as he swam about. He climbed on the surface of rocks and jumped down, the emotion of pure elation written all over his face. The smile he wore was absolutely blinding. The nervous, nearly solemn boy he had seen yesterday was nowhere to be found. Instead, this man was quite thoroughly enjoying himself and the waters.

Arthur was aware that he couldn't make a sound. He could obviously throw a rock at Alfred, but that would accomplish nothing positive. Instead, he stood there staring, waiting for the man to finally take notice of him. Arthur had no idea _why_ he was doing this. It was reckless and stupid of him. He would immediately be taken back to the castle as soon as Alfred spotted him.

But…something told Arthur that he was staring at a private moment. Certainly no one else in the castle had ever been swimming in this lake. From what he could gather, they were all stuck up aristocrats, practically scared of the outdoors and probably scared of even bathing. He had assumed Alfred was the same. Everyone in the kingdom of America seemed so secluded and unwelcoming of anything relating to the outdoors. And Alfred seemed so happy here…it was a complete turnaround from yesterday.

Arthur desperately wanted to make a sound, but instead he continued to stand there staring. His legs were beginning to get tired. He looked down, shifting his weight, and noticed that the sound of splashing had ceased. Looking back up, Arthur found Alfred's head coming up from the water, staring him right in the face. Raising an eyebrow at the boy, Arthur crossed his arms and waited for a response. For the first time in the last few days, Arthur felt like he had a bit of power.

And he did have power over Alfred, apparently, because the next thing coming out of that poor boy's mouth was, "I-Isla?!" He quickly dove under the surface and reemerged near the shallower waters where he could stand. He desperately tried to cover his bare chest with his arms, a fierce blush making its way through his cheeks. Arthur almost wanted to smirk.

"I-Isla…w-what are you doing here?!" he asked, clearly embarrassed at having been caught. Alfred was staring right at Isla, his eyes wide as he looked her in the eyes. He couldn't believe someone had finally caught him swimming here…and it was his _wife_ of all people! No doubt she thought he was a complete idiot. And what if people were following her? They would surely find out Alfred's secret lake, and the thought that he would probably be locked in a room with Isla for the rest of his life did not sit well in his stomach…

But upon further inspection, Alfred noticed that Isla was wearing nothing but her nightgown and corset. Her cheeks were cut and her feet were bare. Alfred's eyebrows, which had shot up with surprise and fear, now formed a worried expression on his face. His blush, however, remained.

"I-Isla, c-can you turn around for a second?" he asked. He was only in his braies, which merely covered his lower waist to the tops of his knees. When he saw her turn around, he quickly sprinted out of the water towards his clothes. He had brought a loose set of pants with a baggy white shirt. Securing his pants with a bit of twine, he said, "O-okay, you can look now."

Isla turned around and did a one over with her eyes. Alfred felt her stare straight at him. He wasn't dressed in his royal garb at all. Instead, he was wearing something only a peasant should wear. But…it wasn't his fault that this outfit was _comfortable_. Sure, it wasn't decorated with fancy embroidery or made with tight, constricting material, but to Alfred it screamed freedom from the castle. It was an outfit fit for someone of the outdoors, the place Alfred adored.

His hair was dripping and he knew his clothes were getting wet as well. He hadn't dried off with the bit of cloth he had brought with him in his haste to get dressed. Alfred began to shiver and thanked the sun for being so bright today and warming his back.

Wringing his hands together nervously, Alfred approached his wife. Taking a hold of her shoulders and looking at her straight in the eyes, he pleaded. "Please…" he began, "please don't let anyone know you saw me here. If my parents ever found out, they'd…they'd lock me up in that stupid castle for who knows how long!" Isla, once again, raised one of her enormous eyebrows in response. She shrugged her shoulders and closed her eyes.

"So…you won't tell?" he tried to confirm. Isla shook her head. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. "T-that's so great, thank you!" Alfred yelled, picking her up in a hug and spinning the both of them around. He felt the palms of her hands collide with his shoulders repeatedly. Isla was probably annoyed that he had picked her up so abruptly. Settling her down, Alfred gave her a dazzling smile. "Sorry…" he said, closing his eyes and scratching the back of his neck.

Arthur crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. He looked away from Alfred's face towards the lake instead. He couldn't help the blush that rose to his own cheeks. Honestly, the person he had married was truly childish in his nature.

"You know, you're actually pretty heavy for a girl…"

Another punch to the arm.

"Ow! Ok, sorry, sorry!" Alfred apologized to Isla for the hundredth time. He saw the tinge of pink on her cheeks like she had had yesterday. Apparently, whenever she punched his arm, she tended to blush right after. She could actually be pretty cute when that happened, which only made Alfred want to tease her more.

A smile on his face, Alfred gestured his wife over to the rim of the lake. Walking until his feet touched the water's edge, he looked out across the beautiful waters. Isla stood next to him, looking out as well. "You picked a pretty good day to pay me a visit out here…" he began. "The water's got a nice temperature, there's no wind blowing, and the sky looks pretty damn perfect…" he said, looking up into the sky as he did so.

Arthur looked up into the sky as well. It was just like the sky he had seen before he had left England. The one Isla had been striving to discover in America. Memories of his sister rushed back into his heart, but this time, they weren't laced with anything solemn or aching. This time, the memories were fond…

"Don't you think so?"

Arthur was broken out of his reverie and looked towards his husband. Alfred's smile shone more brightly than ever before. The sun was right behind the man's head, illuminating his hair beyond reason. But these features weren't the ones that made Arthur freeze. It was Alfred's eyes that seemed to halt his breath.

His eyes were practically sparkling with a sort of pride, bursting with joy in sharing this perfect scenery with his wife. They were the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen. And that's when something in Arthur clicked.

His eyes were just like the sky. Just like the sky Isla had been yearning to see. If she had been the one to meet Alfred, she would find the sky right there on his face. It was so painfully obvious.

Was…was it possible that Isla could have been happy with Alfred?

This man was just like the damn sun, radiating his emotions no matter what they were. And right now, Alfred was radiating joy, and Arthur couldn't help but bask in the positive energy. For the first time since he had come here, Arthur felt…happy. Happy, because instead of marrying a heartless bastard like he thought he was going to, he married this naïve boy instead. Alfred screamed innocence like no one else Arthur had ever met, and it was almost…endearing.

_Almost_.

Arthur was as stubborn as ever. He blinked his eyes and tried to look away from Alfred. He didn't _want_ to trust the man. He didn't want to be happy in his current situation. He ought to be feeling miserable. It was the only emotion Arthur had been determined to feel throughout the whole ordeal, and this man was ruining it all. Arthur tried letting the bad memories flow in, but they kept getting erased as he attempted to focus on his surroundings.

As a matter of fact, his surroundings were starting to blur. Blinking more rapidly now, Arthur began to scrunch his eyes. The sun was beginning to irritate him more than it had earlier that day. Sounds were beginning to become more obscure. Arthur could have sworn he heard Alfred trying to say something.

A hand was waving in front of his face, but before Arthur could respond to it, he dropped to the ground.

* * *

Arthur awoke an hour later with a massive headache. He opened his eyes slowly, his vision sharpening after a minute or so. Alfred's face was hovering over his, concern etched into his expression.

"Hey, you're finally awake!" Alfred shouted with relief. He placed another cool rag on top of Isla's head. They were still outside by the lake and he had wet the rag in its waters. He had just been about to carry her back to the castle if she didn't wake up. She seemed all right now, so Alfred was no longer worried.

"You must've passed out due to the heat," he said, searching in his bag for something.

Arthur continued to lie on the ground, looking towards Alfred. His husband was sticking his tongue out in concentration, which was, dare he think it, almost adorable in its childishness.

"Here we are!" Alfred shouted, bringing his hand out of the bag and producing what looked like a loaf of bread and some cheese. Arthur's stomach gurgled achingly in response. He was still very hungry.

Alfred handed over the food to Isla once she sat up. She took it eagerly, breaking off a piece of the bread and putting a small chunk of cheese on top. Isla readily stuffed her mouth with the ration of food, savoring it while closing her eyes. She continued to eat at a rapid pace, practically shoving the food in her mouth. _She must've been starving…_ Alfred thought to himself.

Alfred took his own piece of bread and began to munch on it as well. When he saw Isla finishing up her bread and cheese, he got up and filled his canteen with water from the lake. He handed it to her once he sat back down. She took it almost greedily and drank the entire canteen dry. Wiping her mouth on her arm, she handed the canteen back to him. "You sure can put it away, can't you?" Alfred asked, chuckling a bit. Isla's cheeks colored and her eyes glared in his direction, but it was that cute glare Alfred was finding himself adore more and more.

While looking at her face, Alfred noticed the small cuts once again. He had dabbed them with a cloth while she had been knocked out, but they were still clearly visible. He wondered how she had gotten those cuts since she hadn't had them last night. The fault probably lied in the branches scratching her face since she had trudged through the woods.

Speaking of which, Alfred desperately wanted to ask just _what_ she had been doing sneaking around on the grounds like that without any shoes or proper clothes. "Isla…" he began, looking at her with a worried expression. "Just what were you doing out here, anyway? You don't even have shoes on…" he pointed out, looking towards her bare feet. They were pretty big for a girl, but then again, Isla didn't exactly scream femininity.

His wife looked away at that, turning her green eyes opposite from his face. She probably couldn't talk about it. Alfred still wasn't sure whether she was mute or sick with a sort of flu…or maybe…she had just been too scared to talk before.

"Why…why can't you talk, Isla? Are you mute?" he asked, hoping that yes or no questions could allow her to respond. Her breath hitched for a second, before she shook her head. So…she wasn't a mute then…

"Are you sick…?" Alfred tried again. Isla merely shrugged her shoulders. Alfred pouted at this. He wondered just what was _wrong_…

"Can you…can you whisper?" he asked, looking to her with earnest eyes. If she could whisper, then they could communicate, he was sure of it!

Isla looked a bit flustered for a second, wringing her hands in her lap. "Sort of…" she whispered in a voice that was barely there.

Alfred's face immediately formed a bright smile. "Y-you can whisper?! That's fantastic!" he shouted, edging closer to her. "That means we'll actually be able to talk! Will you ever get your normal voice back?" he asked excitedly.

"N-no…" she whispered again, averting her eyes. Alfred's grin dropped a bit at that, but stayed in place all the same. At least they now had _some_ form of communication, albeit very limited.

Alfred's expression became serious again. "So…can you tell me just what the heck you were doing wandering the woods? Without any shoes, I might add?" He looked to her face for an answer. She simply shrugged her shoulders.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "So, are you telling me I married a lunatic?" he half teased, half wondered. Alfred heard Isla make a _hmph_ sound at that. He smiled. Getting her riled up was turning out to be _really_ fun.

Isla looked towards him and mouthed her next word. "Stain…" she appeared to be saying as she eyed him angrily. Alfred's eyes widened.

"O-oh…" he said blushing. He realized what she was referring to. "U-uh, what about the stain…?" he asked warily. Isla's eyes glared even more.

"W-wait, you don't think…" Alfred asked. She nodded in confirmation. Alfred could only guess that she hadn't been too pleased to see such a stain left on the bed. That morning, he had asked his trusted servant, the one who had given him the ring, to get him a small spot of cream. He dripped it onto his side of the sheets. Alfred knew that his parents would be examining the sheets later to see whether or not he and Isla had…consummated the marriage, and it was all he could think to do at the moment.

"I-I swear, it's not what you think!" he said immediately. "I asked the servant girl to get me some cream to drip onto the sheets!" He looked straight into her eyes, wanting her to know that what he was saying was true. She looked extremely suspicious, but she eventually dropped her gaze and looked away. All Alfred could see now was the back of her head, which strangely enough reminded him of the servant girl. They had the exact same hairstyle and hair color…they actually looked a lot alike, apart from the servant girl having a much bigger bust than Isla.

Alfred turned his attention towards her feet. There were scratches and blisters forming from walking around outside without shoes. He dug around in his bag for the medicine he always kept in case he got injured outdoors. Finding the salve, he picked up one of her feet and was about to start tending to her wounds when the foot suddenly jerked away. Alfred looked towards Isla who was now clutching her foot and glaring angrily at him.

"I-I was just going to put some salve on your feet!" he said, hands up in mock defense with the jar of medicine held up as well. Isla gave him a suspicious look. She shot out her arm towards Alfred, in clear demand that he give her the salve himself. Alfred found himself producing a small grin.

"Oh no, you're my wife! I have to protect and take care of you, you know," he began, smiling and keeping the medicine at a distance from her outstretched hand. Isla rolled her eyes. This was a good sign…she was overcoming her bad mood. "And that _includes_ tending to all injuries!" he added brightly, making sure to give a bigger smile.

Isla rolled her eyes again, but gave in. She placed her foot on his lap and he began to tend to the cuts. Alfred washed the foot with some water from the lake first, cleaning it. Then, he rubbed the salve on. The rubbing motion was obviously making Isla uncomfortable, as she started squirming where she sat. Alfred looked towards the foot he had just tended to and got an evil smirk on his face. He began to tickle the foot mercilessly, causing Arthur to jump and shove his hand in his mouth in order to prevent any laughs from coming out.

Alfred laughed as he did this. Isla was really squirming now, trying her hardest not to laugh. Before he could continue his ministrations, her other foot came flying very close to his face. "Whoa!" he shouted as he dodged the foot, laughing even more. Isla's face was extremely red at this point, her legs clutched closely to her chest.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me heal your other foot…?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. Isla grabbed the jar of salve right from his hand and began to work on her other foot. Alfred gave a few more small chuckles before lying down, staring up at the sky. The sun would start to set in an hour or so. His parents weren't expecting to see him at all that day, too busy with paperwork handing over the land and power of the kingdom of America to Isla's parents. Alfred had thought of spending the day cooped up in the bedroom with Isla or annoying his brother, Matthew, but he hadn't felt like doing that today. Being outside was far more enjoyable, and it was actually more fun with Isla hanging around. That gave him an idea.

"Hey Isla!" he shouted excitedly. She was still tending to her other foot, but she turned her head around nonetheless. She raised an eyebrow in response, as if to ask, "What?"

"Want to come into town with me? I mean, there's nothing much, but the neighboring people there are really great, I think you'd love them!" Isla looked at him for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head. Alfred's smile grew even wider.

* * *

Alfred, who had cleverly brought a change of shoes with him, gave the pair to Isla to wear as they walked into town. The townspeople were unaware that Alfred was the prince, especially with his outfit. He found a local shop and allowed Isla to dress herself in something a bit more proper than just a nightgown.

He began to introduce Isla to his closest companions there, calling her Isling, a nickname for Isla, in order to protect her identity. He didn't want any rebels getting to her if anyone realized that she was actually the princess from the kingdom of England.

They spent the day wandering, Alfred pointing out all the beauty of his land. He showed Isla the wonderful mountains, the green lands that stretched out for miles, a beautiful waterfall that could be seen out in the distance… America was a beautiful land indeed, and Alfred's heart swelled with pride at the knowledge that this magnificent land was his home.

Arthur's eyes continued to widen with every new feature of land he saw. Arthur couldn't believe just how wonderful America's land was. He could care less about how valuable it was property-wise. It spanned for thousands of miles, which was all his parents cared about. No, it was wonderful because of its nature, its stunning scenery…It was a land fit for someone of the outdoors.

It was a land that fit Alfred. It practically screamed his name.

Alfred had gathered some of his friends to the outer edges of town by a local shore. They lit a bonfire and gathered logs to sit on. Alfred made sure Isla sat next to him. All the townspeople recounted tales and local folklore. There was dancing and music and food, and just pure delight coming from these people. Alfred was no stranger to this environment.

Arthur sat on the wood and merely watched as they all enjoyed themselves, but couldn't prevent a smile edging its way onto his face. The way Alfred would dance so stupidly around the fire to the way he would belt out his horrible singing voice to the songs was just so…charming? Adorable? Arthur couldn't think of the right word. He found himself wanting to laugh at the man's antics. Alfred had even tried to get him to dance, but Arthur refused by pushing him away, crossing his arms, and, unfortunately, blushing. He was becoming more feminine as the days passed, it seemed.

By the time night was descending and the stars were coming out, the festivities had calmed down. Everyone was doing their own thing. Some were eating the leftover food. Arthur was grateful that there had been food at all. He was actually quite full now. Other people were talking amongst themselves, and Arthur found he couldn't ignore the excited man chatting right next to him in his ear.

"…and so then, I jumped into the lake and rescued the poor girl! Right on time too! That day, I was a hero!" he declared proudly, pointing a thumb into his chest. Arthur rolled his eyes, but gave a small smirk. Alfred was also very egotistical, but not in such a bad way.

Alfred looked up into the sky. It was clearly very late and he and Isla had to get back to the castle. Tugging on her arm, he motioned his head towards the castle, signaling that they should leave. Arthur nodded in response. Arthur got up and began to walk away as Alfred said goodbye to all of his friends. Arthur knew that this was obviously a great secret he had to keep about Alfred. His husband was socializing with common folk, and although Arthur would never have wanted to be caught with such people before, he found he had enjoyed the experience far more than any time he spent with aristocrats for company.

Arthur continued walking in the direction of the castle with Alfred until he felt an arm tug him. They were near the gates now, but Alfred continued to tug his arm, looking a bit nervous. "H-hey, can I talk to you?" he asked. Arthur didn't see why Alfred would ask all of a sudden. He did nothing but babble on all day.

However, Arthur followed Alfred nonetheless. They hid behind a tree, extremely far away from the townspeople, but still close enough to make out the fire. Alfred shifted on his feet. Arthur raised an eyebrow, questioning Alfred's sudden edginess.

"Isla…" he began, looking away. "I just…well, I want you to know that…I'm really glad I married you," he said, looking Arthur in the eyes earnestly. Arthur felt his heartbeat begin to rise. What was Alfred saying?

"And, like, I know that we kind of just met and all, but…" Alfred leaned in a bit closer to Arthur until he was backed up against the tree. "I…I really like you, Isla…a lot," he said, taking a hold of her face with one of his hands.

Arthur knew where this was leading, but before he could do anything to stop it, he felt warm lips placed upon his own. It was a small kiss, and Alfred only lingered there for a second before pulling back, a bit flushed due to embarrassment. Arthur's own face was even redder than Alfred's. He had just…he had just _kissed_ the man.

"S-sorry…" Alfred muttered, looking away. "I just…wanted you to know that…"

Arthur desperately wanted to say something, anything. He wanted to scream out that Alfred had just kissed another man, that everything going on was a complete lie, and that he wasn't who Alfred thought he was!

…And, another part of him wanted to say he liked Alfred too.

Bloody hell, he was beginning to like Alfred. _That way_.

This wasn't good, this wasn't good _at all_. Arthur couldn't be falling for a man he had despised just the day before! Arthur couldn't be happy with Alfred out with common folk and sitting by the lake or anything of the sort!

This was bad, this was so very, very bad…

Alfred was still looking away, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess…I guess we should head back…" he started to say. However, before Alfred could turn around and begin walking towards the castle, Arthur did something very impulsive.

Arthur grabbed Alfred's face in his hands and kissed him squarely on the lips. Alfred was shocked for a second before eagerly responding, smiling as he softly kissed her.

Arthur had kissed girls before, of course, but never had he had a kiss quite like this. It wasn't messy or passionate or anything of the sort. It was a simple movement of his lips with Alfred's, familiarizing themselves with each other. It felt comfortable, safe, and…it felt loving.

There was just a certain spark about this moment that Arthur couldn't find the proper words for. His mind was a jumbled mess at the moment, one part wanting to kiss Alfred more and another part wanting to pull back and stop the madness in its tracks.

The latter part won, and Arthur pulled back abruptly, his cheeks completely flushed as he breathed in and out through his mouth. Alfred's smile was practically gleaming in the darkness of the night. Arthur swallowed and allowed the guilt of his actions to sink in. He wanted to say something desperately, but Alfred was much too overjoyed at the moment.

Grabbing Arthur's hand, Alfred practically ran towards the castle with him, small laughter emitting from his lips. Arthur's own lips were shaking with guilt and remorse for what he had done. By the time they had reached the side entrance, Alfred stopped and put a finger to his lips to signal silence. Arthur shakily nodded that he understood.

As Alfred fumbled with the lock, Arthur looked around. Out in the distance, he saw two people. They appeared to be kissing. Arthur squinted his eyes, trying to see what other couples there were out here. His eyes widened in shock at the sight.

The two people kissing looked just like Alfred and Isla! But…but that wasn't possible. Alfred was right here next to him, trying to quietly sneak the key into the lock without making a sound. Then who was…

Was this a vision of guilt? Was this an image of what it looked like when _they_ had kissed? Was some higher power trying to tell him something? Feed him images of his sin?

He had just kissed a _man_. And he had enjoyed it too. Not only was he lying to Alfred, but he was causing Alfred to unknowingly perform an act of utmost sin in kissing him.

Arthur felt Alfred's hand tug him inside. Arthur spared one last glance at the horrible vision in the distance before he walked inside the castle himself, all the while thinking that for once his father had been right about him all along…

* * *

**A/N:** Phew, that was a long chapter xD This chapter did not want to be written, that's for sure xD

A quick little side note~ Isla is a Scottish name and Isling really is a nickname for it :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I-I've gotten so many reviews, thank you all so much! This was a few days late due to filling out all these college apps ^^; But they'll finally be over by Friday, so yay! Anyhoo, please enjoy the next chapter~

* * *

**The Secret**

**Chapter 4**

It had been two weeks since…the incident.

And unfortunately for Arthur, he discovered that Alfred was somewhat of an affectionate sort. While Arthur would lay in the bed, stiff and wracked with guilt, Alfred constantly tried to move closer to his form. He would attempt to drape an arm around Arthur or kiss him on the cheek, but Arthur would shy away from these ministrations. After the first few days, Alfred seemed to get the picture. It was for the best, Arthur would tell himself.

They hadn't kissed since…that night. Arthur wouldn't allow for it. He could see the hurt in Alfred's eyes whenever he turned his head from an act of affection, but it had to be _done_. Many a night Arthur would rub his tired eyes, his head throbbing and aching, trying to overcome the stressful situation he was in.

Despite the lack of any physical romance, Alfred and Arthur had spent the two weeks fairly well, sneaking out to the town like they had before. Arthur was less enthusiastic about these little rendezvous. However, it was much better than wandering the cold, barren castle or accidently bumping into his parents. It seemed whatever connection the two of them had had before was still there no matter how hard Arthur was trying to prevent it. He _couldn't_ prevent it, he didn't want to, even though his mind told him to do so. There was something about Alfred that spread warmth, warmth instead of the icy chill of his parents' stares, the emptiness of the castle, the overall coldness that was, and had always been, his life.

Alfred, normally solemn while stuck in the castle, was as enthusiastic as ever when he was outside. He showed Arthur all the little details he loved about the outdoors. There was a tree he had climbed when he was very little that he still loved to climb till this very day. There was an enormous field of grass that stretched for miles, untouched by farmers or any person for that matter. Alfred ran through the field like an imbecile, hollering and laughing as he did so. Arthur slapped his forehead at the sight, but it just…_fit_ Alfred. So he couldn't help the small smile that spread to his face as well.

But as the days had drawn on, paperwork began piling up and they were expected to attend meetings between their parents to set up the proper terms of agreement between the two kingdoms. It seemed that Alfred's parents weren't too enthusiastic about having to give up _all_ their power and land, but Arthur's parents would settle for no less. Sir and Lady Jones were trying to convince Arthur's parents that they should wait until Isla gave birth to an heir, and then they could take all the land and power they wanted. Although it was Isla having the child, by the time Arthur's parents died, the heir would be that of Alfred and his family, putting them in power once more. Alfred's parents had seen the sheets and assumed consummation, but whether or not Isla was pregnant remained to be seen.

Arthur never saw many people from the castle. He was either in the meeting room, in the bedroom, or outdoors. He preferred to stray from those who lived in the castle, trying not to make his presence known once that dreadful day came…the day when his secret was to be discovered. It was drawing closer and closer. Images of everyone's reactions played constantly in his mind. He couldn't help but think of all the horrendous acts they would force upon him, all the tortuous death sentences they could pick from that he may have to endure. When the mind was scared, it managed to think of a variety of twisted thoughts, striking more fear into poor Arthur.

He could be hanged like a peasant, beheaded, disemboweled while alive, burned at the stake…all these possibilities made Arthur want to vomit, and sometimes at night, while Alfred was sleeping and he was wide awake with these thoughts flitting about in his mind, he would nearly do so. Nights at this castle had never been friendly to Arthur, and his dreams became more and more grotesque as the days wore on. Not once had he had a peaceful night of sleep since the day he walked through the castle doors, and Arthur began to think that day would never come.

Although, there was always the smallest possibility that Arthur's secret would never get discovered…that he would somehow manage to outlive Alfred's parents and their need for an heir and remain a woman for the rest of his life…

Arthur shook his head at the thought. If he never showed signs of pregnancy, Alfred's parents would surely send him to a doctor, where they would then discover…

Arthur clamped his hands on his head, pulling on the hair of his wig. He was sitting in front of the new vanity set Alfred had placed in the room. His husband had bought it recently, claiming it was his two-week anniversary present. Alfred had used his own money to purchase the gift, which was endearing in a way. But as of right now, Arthur was not thinking of Alfred. He was too busy staring at his pathetic reflection while Alfred was in the other room, at yet _another_ meeting.

The wig wasn't holding up too well anymore. He kept having to pin it on his head. His makeup was in a state of despair as well, but Arthur had learned in his time as Isla how to apply it fairly well…he felt more like a woman than ever before when he did so. Arthur was even becoming used to the dreadful corset. It still squeezed his waist and made breathing extremely difficult, but he had been eating less do to its constricting ways, and found that the less he ate, the less constricted he felt.

Arthur scratched at the wig, his own scalp itchy underneath it. The stupid pins always managed to dig themselves and pull strands of his hair out, only causing the top of his head to become irritated. Arthur looked around the room and listened for the sounds of anyone approaching the bedroom. There was nothing but a heavy silence. He sighed in relief. Fingers diving underneath the wig, Arthur carefully undid the pins that clamped so tightly to his hair. After he undid all the pins, Arthur lifted the wig off and rubbed the top of his head.

He looked again at his reflection. If he thought his hair had been messy before, he was in for a real shock now. His sandy locks were all over the place, some having been flattened down by the wig and pins while others stood up wildly now that they were no longer confined. Taking the brush left on the vanity, Arthur tried his best to tame his hair.

"Isla!"

Arthur's hand froze midair when he heard that name. Hastily fitting the wig back atop his head, Arthur's gaze went immediately to the door. Alfred popped right in, taking in his "wife's" disheveled look. "O-oh, sorry, maybe I should've knocked first," he said, closing his eyes and scratching the back of his neck.

Arthur's face was red, not because Alfred had decided to pop in, but because he had almost been caught. The pins were no longer in place, so there was nothing secure holding the wig onto his head.

Alfred waltzed inside and plopped down on the edge of the bed, taking his shoes off and basically becoming at ease in their bedroom. However, he wasn't completely at ease. "Um, Isla…?" he began, looking at her back, catching his reflection in the mirror she was currently facing. He had placed the vanity against the wall opposite to the edge of the bed. There wasn't much distance between the wall and the bed, and Alfred could easily grasp Isla's shoulder from where he sat.

Swallowing thickly, Alfred tried to coax her to turn around. "Isla, I need you to look at me…"

Alfred's former ease had dissolved into something far more serious. Arthur didn't want to turn around, fearful of what he might see in those eyes. This could not be good news, especially since he had not been allowed to attend the meeting Alfred had just been to. However, Arthur obeyed, and turned his chair around so he could face his husband.

"You do…like me, right Isla?" he asked, pink tinting his cheeks. Arthur didn't answer, instead averting his eyes to the other side of the room. He couldn't allow Alfred to recognize any sort of romantic affection he may have had, else he was certain he'd see that horrid vision again.

"You can just…nod your head or something…" Alfred mumbled, his lips almost forming a pout. Arthur wanted to roll his eyes. Was this a serious topic or not? He was acting a bit childish again, but along with his childish actions was a hint of sincerity that never ceased to puzzle Arthur.

Arthur decided it was best to merely shrug his shoulders, not answering the question, nor ignoring it. Alfred sighed at the action. "That doesn't really answer my question…"

Alfred placed his hand on the side of Isla's face and turned it so that he could look her right in the eye. Before he could say something, however, Isla had swatted his hand and proceeded to walk away, her back turned.

"S-so then…it's a no?" he asked, fearful that maybe Isla really _didn't_ hold any affection for him…but that would be too bizarre. They had spent so many memorable moments together, and for the first time in a long time, he felt…happy. He wasn't afraid to admit that Isla made him happy, either! Sure, she was grumpy and stubborn and kind of a prude, but she was also persevering, independent, and _strong_. She carried herself with her shoulders and back straight, would glare if done any sort of injustice to, and…well, Alfred really didn't know how to describe her. She always seemed as if she had many burdens to bear, but instead of simply lying down and taking it, she stood up for herself…at least, that was the vibe Alfred received from her. He felt as if she was a person who could _endure_, and Alfred had to admit that endurance was something he admired.

Her parents were cruel. Alfred figured that out after the first few meetings he had with them going over the terms of agreement. They belittled her, sniped at her, insulted her, yelled right in her face, noses touching, and sometimes they smacked her if she didn't respond how they wanted her to respond. When Alfred attempted to stand up for her after witnessing their abuse for the first time, she merely extended her arm out to block him, staring straight at her parents with a glare and nothing more.

Yes, she could endure. And there was also something about the way she was outdoors. She didn't seem like she appreciated being outside at first, but that was probably because, like himself, she had been cooped up in a castle all her life and told not to venture outside. But once Alfred had showed her the beautiful lands of America, something sparked in her eyes. Alfred didn't know what it was, but he definitely saw something…

She was unlike any girl he had ever known. She had all these traits coupled with the fact that she looked really cute when she blushed, which Alfred took as an extra perk.

But he really wanted to know what it was about _him_ that she didn't like. He asked again. "I-Isla, so, you really don't like me then?" It contradicted everything if she said no to this question, but he really had to know the answer…especially after what had happened at the meeting while she wasn't there…

Isla slumped her shoulders and turned around, sighing. She rubbed her eyes and walked over to the bed, climbing up on its surface and sitting where she usually slept. Alfred got off his spot from the edge of the bed and sat on his own side of the bed, bringing his legs into his chest. He stared right at her and she stared straight ahead. She looked tired, as if she didn't want to deal with this situation. But Alfred could be just as stubborn as she was.

Since his pout hadn't worked before, he tried poking her in the cheek to provoke a reaction. She swatted his hand away as if his actions were completely normal, which they were, but now she almost seemed _bored_. But the gravity of the situation hadn't been placed upon her shoulders just yet.

Arthur decided to lay his head back down against the pillows. Maybe he could feign sleep if he had to. Alfred had nothing important to say if all he was worrying about was their relationship at the moment, and Arthur had already mastered the key to avoiding the subject. Although these talks were becoming more frequent, it was nothing Arthur couldn't handle.

He stared up at the ceiling as Alfred sighed to himself. He mentally berated himself for hurting the man so much, but it would obviously cause much more pain of anything romantic between the two continued.

Suddenly, Alfred had turned towards Arthur with a grim look on his face. It wasn't the same pout or expression he wore when talking about their relationship with one another…it was far more serious.

"Isla," he began, looking at Arthur straight in the eye. Just what was making Alfred look so damn nervous?

"We need to consummate the marriage. Tonight."

Alfred looked away, afraid of Isla's reaction. Arthur laid still, stiff in bed. Just what was he _saying_? He continued to speak.

"My parents…they want to see signs of your pregnancy in about four months, and if not…they said they'd exile you from the kingdom of America for being sick and infertile…"

Arthur bolted upright, staring straight at Alfred as soon as the words left his lips. _Exiled?! I'm going to be exiled?!_ he thought frantically to himself, his eyes wide with disbelief, so much so that he hardly noticed the expression on Alfred's face until a few seconds of silence had passed.

Alfred was staring at him with a face much more shocked than his own. "I-Isla…?" he asked, his lips quivering, eyes wider than Arthur had ever seen them before. Arthur nearly cocked an eyebrow, wanting to know just why Alfred was wearing that expression until he rested his hand on the pillow.

He felt hair.

_No…_

Arthur glanced down quickly to confirm his suspicions. And there it was, his wig, lying right on the pillow after he had sat up so quickly. He looked right back at Alfred, practically choking on the air in an effort to realize the situation at hand. Arthur's throat swelled and he found he couldn't say anything but stare straight back, eyes just as wide as his husband's.

His face was suddenly grabbed, his head being forced down into the pillow as Alfred roughly placed his lips on his own. Arthur was too shocked to react to the situation until he felt Alfred's knee slide right between his thighs and…

"Oh my God!" Alfred screamed as he leapt off of Arthur, landing on the ground, eyes wide with fear and pointing at what he thought was a woman. "Y-you're a guy?!" Alfred's pointed hand was trembling now, his lips quivering more than ever as he tried to take in the situation.

Arthur realized that Alfred had thrown him onto the sheets to test for his gender, and even though his secret was now revealed and his heart was thundering in his chest, he couldn't let Alfred shout like that. He ran off the bed and forcefully placed a hand over Alfred's mouth.

"Please, just be quiet! Everyone will hear-" But before he could continue, his hand was ripped off as Alfred stood, leaning against the wall as if Arthur's touch had scorched him.

"D-don't touch me!" he shouted. "H-how? Wha-? W-what's going on here?!"

Arthur begged, "Please, I'll tell you everything, just be quiet! No one can know-"

"Y-you were a guy?! T-this whole time? I…I don't even…agh!" Alfred shouted, fisting his two hands into his hair on both sides of his head as he stared down at the woman, no, at the _man_, begging before him.

Isla…Isla was a _man_. She, no, _he_, was…

No, it couldn't be, it just _couldn't_ be!

But everything suddenly began to start making sense, no matter how desperately Alfred tried not to think about it. Isla's face, her body structure, the fact that she couldn't, no, _wouldn't_ speak…

Alfred's hands were trembling, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. He wanted to shout, he wanted to scream, but everything he wanted to say was stuck in his throat. Alfred could barely hear what Isla, no, this _stranger_, was saying, too focused on trying to get his thoughts on one track…

"What's going on in here, eh?! What's with all the commotion?" a man shouted upon stepping into the room.

Arthur turned around in fear, shielding his hair with his hands as if it could hide his true gender for only a few moments more. But when he finally caught a glimpse of who was at the door, disbelief struck him. "A-Alfred?" he asked, glancing back and forth between the two men.

"Alfred, who is this guy?!" the man said, looking frightened himself. The man grabbed the small sword from his holster and held it out in front of Arthur's face, arms trembling while his face gave the expression of absolute fear and horror. "W-who are you?!" he shouted, becoming more nervous, causing the sword to shake even more.

"P-please, g-get that away from me!" Arthur shouted, his hands in front of him defensively. Was he really going out like this?

"W-wait, Matthew, don't!"

The man, or Matthew, rather, turned to Alfred with a disbelieving look. However, he did as he was told and put the sword back, crossing the room to stand in front of Alfred defensively. His face, first full of apprehension, had become serious and almost dangerous. He was obviously protective of Alfred. "Who are you? What have you done with Isla?" he asked gravely, scrutinizing Arthur.

Arthur gulped. "I-I am Isla, b-but if you would just allow me to explain…" he said as his voice trailed off after seeing Matthew's expression becoming even angrier.

"Then explain already! Why the hell are you in here with my brother?!" Matthew screamed, but his shout caused something to click on Arthur's head.

"Y-you're…you're twins…?" he asked hesitantly. Matthew nodded angrily in response. Arthur felt an even bigger weight crash onto his shoulders. They were twins. _Twins_. Just like…just like himself and Isla…

Arthur buried his face into one of his hands. "O-oh God…" he said, trying to stop the tears that threatened to roll down his face. This was just too much for him to handle all at once. He could usually endure anything thrown at him, but the absolute stress of the situation was clenching at his chest, causing pain to reverberate throughout his entire being.

He heard Matthew whispering something to his brother. Alfred was still shaken up and could hardly form a cohesive sentence.

Matthew looked towards Arthur, muttering, "Just wait here…" before leading his brother out of the room and locking the door behind him.

* * *

The two brothers had spoken for a while outside while Arthur waited in the bedroom. He had curled up into a ball and was trembling all over. He had thought his tears had run dry, but apparently they hadn't. He clutched his knees with an excruciating force, trying not to let such emotions overtake him.

He knew this day would come. It had been on his mind constantly since he first entered the castle. But never had Arthur suspected it would happen so…quickly. Not with the way things had been going before. A voice in the back of Arthur's head told him that if he knew to expect this, then he shouldn't be such a weakling about it. But Arthur couldn't help himself. He was so _scared_ now, scared of how everyone else would find out, scared of how he would be executed, scared of his parents' reactions, and scared of Alfred's reaction as well.

Arthur, although he had already seen Alfred's reaction, continued to fear how he would react now that the initial surprise was over. What if it turns out he became violent? What if he put Arthur to death himself? What if they killed Alfred too, just because he was married and supposedly consummated with a man? These thoughts were doing nothing to help Arthur's mood.

Hearing the door click open, Arthur immediately looked up from his spot on the bed to see Alfred and his brother standing in the doorway. Alfred's eyes were red, which probably meant he had shed a few tears as well. Arthur couldn't blame him, seeing as how his eyes were still spilling tears down his own face.

Matthew was apparently quite the brother since he seemed to have calmed Alfred down while maintaining a level head of his own. Matthew looked both solemn and angry. Alfred continued to stand by the door as his brother walked into the room and stood near the edge of the bed, staring at Arthur. Alfred eventually leaned his body against the door and slumped down, head in his hands.

Arthur looked up to Matthew, waiting for him to speak. When he said nothing, Arthur took that as his cue to start sharing his story. "U-um, you must be wondering who I am…" he began, nervously glancing into Matthew's face. Now that he thought about it, the two did look slightly different. The hair was a different length and the eyes were different colors. They even had different shaped hairs that stuck up.

Matthew nodded in response, waiting for him to continue. "Well…my name is Arthur Kirkland, and Isla is my sister." Matthew cut him off at this point.

"And just where _is_ your sister?" he asked suspiciously.

Arthur gulped. "S-she's dead…" he said quietly, now realizing that it might be much harder to delve into this story than he had previously thought. Matthew furrowed his eyebrows at the news while Alfred picked his head up and began looking at Arthur. Feeling a bit more self conscious, he continued. "Isla was…she was my twin sister and…on our way here, a rebel took out a knife and…and stabbed her…" he said, wringing his hands together.

Matthew's face looked a bit torn, one side showing sympathy and the other disbelief. "Do you…do you have proof?"

Arthur flared up. "How about the fact that she's gone and I'm in a goddamned dress?!" He was breathing heavily now. He became angry like he always did when it concerned his late sister. He shook his head, muttering "sorry" as he tried to clear his mind for a moment. "I have…I have a scar, on my back…I tried to protect her, but…" his voice trailed off, recalling the scene vividly in his mind. All the blood, the panic, the painful emotions of the moment scorching at his heart…

Arthur was aware of Matthew walking around the bed where his back was turned. Matthew tugged down the back of the dress to reveal the scar hidden there. "He's telling the truth about the scar, Al…"

It was at this point that Alfred stood up, albeit reluctantly. Arthur's face was red when he felt Alfred's stare on his back, but he said nothing. Alfred breathed in deeply ran a hand through his hair as he walked in front of Arthur. He stared straight into his eyes, shaking his head and asking, "Just…why?" He sounded exasperated.

Arthur gazed down at the bed sheets. "My parents…they forced me to do this…"

"I-I just…I…" But Alfred couldn't continue his train of thought. His mind was still a jumbled mess and he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this guy's own _parents_ forced him to do this.

"Alfred, please…" Arthur said, staring straight up at the man. "Please don't tell anyone about this…at least…at least until my parents leave…" he said. He couldn't believe he was actually willing to let his parents escape, but he feared their fury more than being caught. If his parents were found to be guilty, then they would surely do their best to _recommend_ a death sentence for Arthur…

Alfred stared back, his face wearing a tired, almost indifferent, expression. "We need to get you out of here…"

"W-what?" Arthur asked, unsure if he heard Alfred correctly.

"We need to get you out of here. Both of us. This isn't going to work, not with the way my parents are snooping around now…" Alfred's tone of voice was very serious. His face looked drained and Arthur could see bags forming under his eyes.

"We can all go."

Both Alfred and Arthur looked towards Matthew. His face was serious as well. "Alfred's right, this isn't going to work. Someone's going to find out one way or another…" He stepped towards Alfred, his head looking down as if he was ashamed. "And…I really need to get out of here, too…"

The other two men wore surprised expressions. Just what else was going on here?

Matthew looked up and faced them both. "I was going to do this just next week but, we can escape the castle tomorrow."

"M-Matt," Alfred quickly cut in, "I don't think we can just up and leave, shouldn't we plan something…?" His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at his brother.

"I've already got a plan. I've had one for a while…" he said, averting his eyes. "That servant girl…Katya. We were planning to elope soon."

"W-what?!" Alfred shouted. "What do you…Are you serious?" he asked, unsure if maybe everyone was just bent on tricking him today. Matthew muttered a soft "yeah" before turning his head and looking at Arthur.

"You know…you and Katya had the exact same hair…I would say you two almost looked alike, if you were a bit more feminine…" He sighed, staring straight up at the ceiling and closing his eyes, trying to revise his original plan in his head to accommodate both Arthur and his brother. He had really wanted to reveal Arthur for who he was, but outside the room, Alfred had seemed dead set on keeping Arthur alive for whatever reason. Alfred had finally said that he would be killed too because their parents thought he slept with "Isla"…

Arthur looked upon Matthew with incredulity, something finally dawning on him. "It…it was you…?" he asked as he stared at the man. Matthew looked down.

"What?" he asked, unaware of what Arthur was referring to.

"You…the kiss, two weeks ago, I saw you…that was you and…and a servant girl?" he asked. His mouth was gaping as he realized that what he thought was Isla really _wasn't_. And the voice…the voice he had heard that sounded just like hers after waking up on his first night in the castle…was it possible that voice had been hers, too?

Matthew's eyes widened. "Y-you saw that?"

Alfred stepped in at this point. "Now, wait a minute! Let me get this straight," he said, still trying to sort the situation out. "Y-you're a guy," he said, pointing to Arthur, "and _you've_ been having an affair with that nice servant girl?"

Matthew's face colored, embarrassed at having his own secret revealed. "Yes…" he responded, nodding his head the slightest bit.

Alfred just turned around and grabbed a fistful of hair with his hand. He leaned against one of the walls, breathing deeply. Too much was going wrong at the moment…

He turned around at the sound of a cough. Matthew was ready to speak again. "What I need you guys to do is be up at dawn. Go down to the main door and I'll meet you there with Katya."

"But Matt, they always guard that door-" Alfred began to say before he was interrupted.

"No, they won't. The guards are friends of Katya's, they'll do anything she asks. It's the safest way out of the castle because she's already convinced the guards to make up a story and lead our parents in the wrong direction, the exact opposite of where Katya and I are heading…" Matthew reassured Alfred. He knew he would have no problem getting Katya to convince those guards tonight. It was a bit earlier than he had originally planned, but he was confident it would work.

Alfred looked like he wanted to object, but sighed instead.

Matthew put a hand on Alfred's shoulder sympathetically. "Pack your stuff tonight, Al. I promise we'll get out of here…" His voice was solemn as he said this. "But…hey, it won't be so bad…Maybe you'll finally get to live in the outdoors you love so much, eh?" His last statement was meant to cheer Alfred up, but all he got in return was a fake smile and a _hmph_.

Deciding it was best to leave, Matthew walked past his brother. He eyed Arthur warily for a moment before closing his eyes, turning around, and walking out of the room.

When Matthew made sure the door was closed behind him, he was just about to head straight to Katya before he felt a body grab him from behind and put a hand to his mouth. Struggling in this person's grasp, he took a quick intake of breath when he recognized the person's voice. "So, _l'amour_ is in the air?" the voice asked him. Matthew could practically hear the smirk and his lips began trembling. This man…Francis…had heard everything, hadn't he?

* * *

After Matthew had left, the atmosphere had been eerily silent between Alfred and Arthur. Alfred, who would usually talk so much, didn't say another word. Arthur struggled to come up with apologies or anything to break Alfred out of his trance, if that's what you could call it. Alfred had simply ignored him and began packing. By the time he was done with both of their things (not that Arthur had many things to begin with), he blew out all the lanterns and went to bed.

But of course, Arthur couldn't sleep. How could anyone possibly expect him to sleep _now?_ When he was so stressed and worried and fearful of what his future would bring him?

But…there was also the smallest bit of hope. He had thought that once anyone found out about him, he would be killed. He had been prepared to either beg for mercy or take it like a man, to go out with dignity…He hadn't expected an opportunity to be spared. If he managed to escape the castle, even if he would no longer see Alfred again…he would be free. He wouldn't have to worry about his parents or his marriage or anything… He could start over and have a new life, a more decent one. And as much as that thought scared him, it comforted him as well.

It would be a struggle, of course. But at least it was better than being burned alive! It was better than being disemboweled! And Arthur was prepared to take any actions necessary to see this through.

Arthur stared out into the dark room, figuring he would rather stay up the whole night than try to sleep. It was pointless. His dreams were dreadful and his mind was always restless. Hugging his knees into his chest, which was hard with the corset still on, but possible nonetheless, Arthur let his head drop.

There was one lingering emotion that kept nagging at him. It was about Alfred. The guilt that had been in his heart had grown to an enormous size. Even though he had tried so hard to prevent it, he still…cared for Alfred. But now that Alfred knew the disgusting truth, nothing could ever work out between them, not even the most decent friendship. And then there was the fact that it was basically his fault Alfred had to leave the castle. If only he had never gone through with this plan in the first place, things would be different for him…Arthur only managed to break his entire family apart. Joy.

When dawn rose, Arthur nudged Alfred on the shoulder. Alfred got up quickly and quietly, not sparing a glance at Arthur. He really didn't know what to make of what happened last night. Too many secrets had come out at once and bombarded him, and now he was leaving his home and family for good.

Everything just…stung. That was the only word Alfred could think of. It was as if someone had stabbed him in the heart, rubbed salt on a wound, etc.

Alfred tried keeping himself from talking. He had no reason to talk now, really. But in reality, it was out of fear that he said nothing. Alfred felt that if he began to talk to Arthur, he would find out the guy's true colors. He would find out that everything they did together was fake, that every happy moment they shared was just Arthur fooling around with his heart…

And it was this that stung most of all.

But Alfred had to be strong. Giving Arthur one last, pitying look, he began to walk out of the door. Arthur followed behind and they both walked into the main hall.

Matthew had been right. There were no guards now. They waited in silence in front of the large doors for Matthew and Katya to appear. Arthur was apprehensive about meeting her, especially since she had looked so much like Isla…

Alfred heard Arthur sniffle behind him and turned around. "You…you all right, man?" he asked, adding that last word because he still wasn't used to thinking of "Isla" as a guy.

Arthur was startled by the question. "I-I…" he began, but found he couldn't finish. Thinking about Isla did this to him. He was getting emotional far too often…maybe he really _should_ have been born a woman…

Alfred took in a big breath. Arthur's face looked so distraught that it broke Alfred completely. This man had put up with so much in the past few weeks and it just…

As unfair as it was to Alfred, it was just as unfair to Arthur. He sighed. Looking at Arthur, he was just about to say something when they heard a voice.

"There they are!" said a man with blond hair and a bit of stubble. He was wearing a smirk and pointing at them. From behind, both Alfred and Arthur could see each of their parents approaching, along with multiple guards from the other side of the castle.

Arthur's eyes practically came out of their sockets. He shook his head, muttering "no, no, no" over and over again.

"Well, what are you waiting for?! Grab them!" Sir Jones screamed at the guards. Before Arthur or Alfred could run away, they were both surrounded, arms clutching them with no mercy. They struggled in the guards' grasps, but it was no use.

Alfred's father's eyes were filled with absolute rage. "Bring him to me! Strip him of that dress!" The hands around Arthur got to work as they tore the dress apart, leaving him in nothing but the corset and an undergarment. His wig was ripped off of his head and he let out a scream from his strands of hair being pulled so rapidly. Hands behind his back now, he was facing Sir and Lady Jones. He was clearly a man and they could see. "Take the damn corset off!" Sir Jones ordered, and off it came. Arthur surged forward, his abdominal muscles weak from misuse. It hurt to stand now.

"D-dad, please, stop this!" Alfred shouted, fending off the guards with all his strength. However, no matter how many guards he managed to outdo, more kept coming.

Alfred looked at his father with imploring eyes, begging him to stop. He heard a whimpering from farther away. Looking past his father, he saw Matthew struggling in a guard's arms as well, a hand clamped over his mouth. Matthew bit on the hand. The guard, quickly snatching his hand away, gave Matthew the opportunity to shout, "They know _everything_!"

Both Alfred and Arthur stopped struggling. _By everything…that would mean…and the way Matt shouted…they know about his affair with Katya as well, then?_ Alfred thought to himself, mouth opening and closing without emitting any noise.

Arthur's parents were brought forward. Lady Jones glared at them with the utmost malice in her eyes. "Were you aware of this?!" she screeched. Arthur's parents looked at each other, anger boiling in their eyes, but decided it was best to answer truthfully. Perhaps _their_ lives could be spared.

"We were," Lady Kirkland answered, her face calm but her shaking hands betraying her true emotions. Alfred's parents fumed even more.

"And _you_!" Sir Jones shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Arthur. "If you are to dress like a woman, then you shall _be_ a woman! Guards, send him to the chambers! I want him castrated!"

_Wha-?_

_No. _

_No, dear God, no!_

Arthur didn't have any cohesive thoughts as he struggled in the grasp of the guards, shouting at the top of his lungs. "No, please! Don't! Stop!" he screamed, his eyes begging Alfred's father to order the guards to stop.

But Sir Jones wasn't about change his mind. He looked upon Arthur with a furious eye, as if he would willingly murder Arthur with his own hands.

"Arthur!" Alfred shouted, desperately trying to break free from the guards.

As Arthur stared into Alfred's eyes as he was being pulled away, he only had enough strength to whisper, "Alfred…"

* * *

**A/N:** Another chapter~ The final chapter should be up in a few days to a week at most :)

So, in case you were wondering, Katya is referring to Ukraine. I think only one person came close to figuring out what the image was and it was her ;) Of course, I've definitely tried to describe Isla's appearance as being similar to Ukraine (with the hair and everything), but if this doesn't float your boat, then imagine Katya as a servant who happens to look like the Isla in your head

And it was Francis who was listening in the entire conversation. Kami001 wanted to see him, and that was the only place I thought I could put him ^^; I made him an evil, eavesdropping, noble :x

Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed this latest chapter :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I-I'm so late… orz Well, here is the final chapter, regardless of its utter lateness

A thought occurred to me. I've used the word "braies" once before, but I've never defined it. It's a type of undergarment men wore back then. It's like boxers, except a bit longer

With that in mind, I hope you all enjoy this final chapter~

* * *

**The Secret**

**Chapter 5**

Arthur was dragged into a stone chamber. The empty, cold air chilled him to the bone. His feet were bare as he was forcibly hauled into the room, and the freezing, uneven stones under his feet made him shiver fiercely. Arthur was without his corset or any type of clothing for that matter with the exception of the braies covering the parts that would be exposed soon.

The two men plopped him down on a table. It was made of flat stone and felt as if it was frozen, making Arthur very uncomfortable as he lied atop it. The bony knobs of his spine sat uncomfortably on its hard surface. He felt both of his hands being secured by manacles at the edges of the table. He tried to pull his hands free, but it was no use.

His legs were being wrestled with one of the guards who was trying to pry them open as best he could. The entire time, Arthur was begging and screaming for them to stop. The other guard was off in the corner, preparing the proper materials.

Arthur only felt the rush of adrenaline course through his body. He was in a complete panic. He had expected death, not…not _this_. His heart was racing, beating against his ribs sporadically as he continued to try to break free. The guard who wasn't struggling with his feet, the one in the corner, was laughing as he continued to beg and plead that they stop. He had a grimy look to him. His teeth were rotted, yellow and chipped, and his face was covered in a layer of sweat. His eyes were wild, feral even, eager to perform the task at command.

The other man finally managed to pry his legs apart. He held them down with brute force which caused Arthur's ankles to rub painfully against the stone's edge. "Got 'is legs apart, John," he said to the man preparing the tools. Soon, a red hot iron was placed on the left of Arthur's head on another table. Arthur's lips quivered when he saw it. "W-what the bloody hell is that for?" he asked, voice shaking as his eyes stared at instrument before him.

The man with the yellow teeth, John, laughed. "It's what we're gonna seal yer wound up with after we're done choppin' it off," he said with a sadistic smile on his face. Arthur grew more panicked as he struggled mercilessly with the chains.

"P-please, let me out of here, don't do this to me!" he shouted. "I swear, I'll do anything!" The man cackled. He looked Arthur in the eye, their faces close enough for Arthur to smell his foul breath.

"No can do, ma'am."

The man soon brought out a small ax and pounded it onto a wooden desk, the blade sharp after he had run it on the wheel. He turned to Arthur and took out a blade, shredding the last of his clothes off to leave him completely exposed and at their mercy. Arthur shouted at the top of his lungs, begging for them to stop. His legs were pried further apart to allow better access for the man with yellow teeth to chop everything off.

The man lifted the ax off the table, smiled right in his face, and raised the weapon in the air. Arthur closed his eyes and prepared himself for the worst.

"Stop!"

The sound of another voice in the room startled him. Lifting his head, Arthur saw another man bound forward. "Get away from my son!" he shouted, grabbing the ax and tugging it out of the other person's grasp. He pushed the two men away, raising the ax and threatening them with the weapon. "Sir Jones has suspended his previous order! Leave at once!"

The two men scurried out of the room, leaving Arthur shaking on the table with his father breathing heavily and staring down at him. Arthur, in total shock, felt tears stream down his cheeks, with relief or fear, he couldn't tell.

"F-father, what…?"

Sir Kirkland merely glared at him in the eye. "You look pathetic," he said, making his way around the table and unlocking his son's hands from the cuffs. "Get up, boy!" he ordered, pushing Arthur up into a sitting position rather forcefully. Arthur's entire body was trembling severely and he felt very sick.

A thick silence permeated the room between both father and son. Arthur honestly didn't know what to say, much less gather coherent thoughts. His father just continued to glare and scratch his beard, as if _he_ were thinking of the right thing to say at the moment. Finally, Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, "Why?"

His father caught on the meaning immediately. "You have got to be…" he started, "the most pathetic excuse for a son I have ever had…" Arthur winced at the insult, but took it with what little pride he could muster. His father had always seen him this way, and he had always seen his father as a cruel, heartless bastard. Mutual hate. Nothing new in their relationship.

Sir Kirkland continued. "You're pitiful…stubborn…_disobedient_," he said as he counted off the different words with his fingers. "You had brothers before you…they died before you and Isla were born…" he recalled, a slight glimmer of pride for his sons in his eyes. "They were _strong_…dutiful. They always listened to what I said, and with enthusiasm," he mentioned, eyeing Arthur with distaste.

Arthur was aware that there were sons before him. His mother had mentioned it before on several occasions, but never had his father brought the subject up. It was something Sir Kirkland avoided with all his might, and to hear his father speaking about his brothers he never knew…it was utterly nerve-wracking.

"When they died and you were born, I thought I had another chance at a son I could be proud of. But I was wrong." Arthur averted his eyes and looked down, truly feeling the sting of his father's words. What did this have to do with his current situation?

"But…this is the one time you actually obeyed," his father said, his voice the tiniest bit softer than before. "And yet you managed to screw up the whole fucking thing," he added just as quietly, but with a deep malice surrounding his tone. "We made you dress like a girl, act like a girl, and heck, it even turns out you're a fag!"

Arthur almost wished the two men who were about to castrate him were back so he wouldn't have to face his father. He continued to look down, feeling ashamed because this was the only part of his father's speech he actually felt was _true_.

"But for Sir Jones to think he can castrate you…I couldn't let that happen." Arthur looked up at this point, an eyebrow arched in confusion.

"That was the only proof that you were a man…and if they took that away…" he muttered, shaking his head. "I could care less if you suffered, boy," he added so Arthur would know his position on the situation. "If they took that away…they'd be taking away my last son."

Sir Kirkland walked closer to the table, grabbing Arthur's face and forcing him to look up at him. "I only have _one_ daughter." And with that, his father let go and strode to the door before stopping and looking over his shoulder. "By the way, if you're wondering how I got Sir Jones to buckle, I told him that the kingdom of England wouldn't give any funds to the kingdom of America. Should've seen the look on the bastard's face," he said with a nasty chuckle. And with that, he left the room.

Arthur remained on the table, trying to take in the situation. His body had calmed down from the adrenaline rush he had earlier, but his brain was frantically trying to sort out his thoughts. His father had never loved him, that was for sure. He probably never loved Isla either. But he had loved his elder sons…and the only thing connecting Arthur to his brothers was his masculinity. Arthur had thought for sure that once he had been given this task that his father would never look at him as a man again, but apparently, Sir Jones had tried to take it one step too far and broke the camel's back. Arthur didn't know what emotion he should feel. He felt relief…but also dejection. Anger. And loneliness.

He hated his father like no son ever should, and yet…his father had been there for him. Grudgingly, but at least he was there. It was even for the wrong reasons that his father rescued him! But, at the very least, Arthur was safe…for now.

* * *

The heated arguments that took place during the course of the day were extremely intense. Both sets of parents were shooting insults at each other one after another. Nobles in other parts of the manor found it very hard to ignore the shouting, but they were not allowed to be in the same room, so no one, besides a select few, even knew what the situation was about. However, it was very hard to just keep them _all_ ignorant.

Alfred and Matthew were locked in their rooms, but they could still make out some of the arguments that went back and forth between their parents. The insults would often blend until nothing could be heard except for a single mesh of shouts. Katya was locked up in the servants' quarters. Matthew, teary-eyed after hearing this, was also grateful that they had decided not to lock her up in the dungeons.

Arthur, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky.

He had been dragged from the torture chamber to the dungeon, where they threw him into a cell and took away the key, bars confining him to his small enclosure. He was given a single candle for light, and all around him was nothing except hay on the floor and a few shackles hanging from the walls here or there. Arthur was still unclothed, and he felt himself becoming sick with having to endure the freezing temperatures of the room. In a matter of weeks, he had gone from prince of the kingdom of England to a lowly prisoner in a cell.

Alfred's window was barred, meaning he couldn't just slip outside if he wanted to. His front door was locked, but as Alfred soon found out, it wasn't being guarded by anyone. His parents actually felt as if this would confine him to his room. However, after years of sneaking out, this was nothing.

But did he honestly want to escape at this point? What was out there for him? He could run away all he wanted, but just how likely would an actual escape be? His parents would find him, surely, in the village or the lake or…anywhere the guards could travel, basically. And who would go with him? His brother didn't seem all that enthusiastic about leaving without Katya, and as much as Alfred didn't want to admit it, Katya had a very good chance of being sentenced to death. Would the same happen to his brother? Would he himself be executed as well? And then there was Arthur… Would they continue to live as a couple now that he had been castrated? Or would Arthur be sentenced to death?

All of these questions swirled around in Alfred's mind, making his head throb. It was too much stress for one person to handle, and in such a short amount of time too. He had overheard that Arthur was now locked away in a cell, mostly likely in the small dungeon they had underneath the castle. Alfred looked towards his dresser and wondered how long it had been since Arthur had worn real clothes…how long it had been since Arthur had first put on a corset and wig, giving everyone the impression he was a girl.

He wasn't used to thinking of Isla as Arthur now. The name felt foreign on his tongue, and to continue to associate Isla with being a man was just…mind-boggling. Everything they had been through before had felt so…so real. He had actually been happy in Isla's company, happier than he had been in a long time. But…now that Arthur was here, the world seemed so fake. Untrustworthy. It almost felt like an illusion, as if Alfred would wake up from this nightmare to find Isla sleeping by his side. He even felt he could wake up and find himself still at the altar, looking on as the _real_ Isla approached his side…

But none of this was a dream, an illusion, some sort of frightening fantasy he had somehow managed to envision. It was real.

Alfred looked out his barred window. The sky was bleak and the grounds surrounding the castle were gray. For once, Alfred didn't feel like going outside…the outdoors looked just like the inside of his room. _Arthur's probably in complete darkness…_ he thought to himself. Alfred shook his head. The last thing he wanted to think about was how that guy had managed to trick and lie to him this entire time. But still…did the man honestly deserve to be locked up for something his parents forced him to do?

_Again with the questions_…Alfred honestly wished they would stop coming to mind. Well, if he wanted any of his questions answered, then he would just have to go to the man himself, right? He looked towards his dresser again before deciding to grab some extra clothes for Arthur while taking out his treasured skeleton key from its usual hiding place.

Alfred needed some answers.

* * *

Arthur stared at his candle. There was barely any wax left. In just a minute more, the flame would extinguish. Arthur sighed to himself. He didn't know how long he'd been in here. He was starving, thirsty, cold… No doubt he would die from an illness if he wasn't sentenced to death. He had the feeling his father would not attempt to stop his execution.

He blew out a shaky breath. He could nearly see the fog expelled from his mouth. The flame started to flicker. _In just five more seconds…_ Arthur thought to himself. _Five…four…three…two…_

_One._

The flame went out perfectly to Arthur's timing. But there was still light in the room. Eyes widening, Arthur looked around to see a much bigger ball of light begin to approach him. Upon further inspection, it looked to be the light of a lantern.

The brightness burned his eyes and Arthur shielded his face with his arm while still trying to peer out from behind the bars of the cell. Someone was approaching. A heavy feeling lingered in his stomach. These could possibly be his final moments _alive_…

"Arthur?" the person holding the lantern asked. The man sat down outside of the cell. Arthur couldn't see his face all too clearly as he squinted. The voice sounded very familiar…

"Alfred?!" he asked, shocked that Alfred was here next to him.

The lantern was set off to the side, but its glow illuminated the small space between the two men. Arthur's eyes became used to the brightness and he was finally able to see Alfred clearly.

Alfred looked at Arthur's body and realized that the man was naked. "Here…" he said, offering the spare clothes he had brought with him. "You must be freezing." And Alfred was right in that assumption, for Arthur immediately grabbed the garments with shivering hands. He put them on hastily, attempting to cover himself in front of the other man and retain some form of dignity…not that he had any left. It was a loose shirt and some slacks. He gave a small thank you in response and looked towards Alfred to say something.

Both men were silent as they sat there, an awkward stillness permeating the room. Arthur didn't know what to say, and it _was_ Alfred who had come to see _him_. He coughed slightly to try to get Alfred to speak. The silence was suffocating him.

"You know…" Alfred began while eyeing Arthur, "I've never actually seen you dressed like a guy." He gave a small, empty smile. Arthur, who normally would have responded with a huff at Alfred's attempt at teasing, instead looked down in embarrassment. "Oh, uh, h-hey, no, I was just making a joke, don't take it so seriously!" Alfred said as he tried to get Arthur to look back up. He always managed to say the wrong things…

"No, it's fine," Arthur said as he stared back at Alfred. "I am happy I get to wear clothes like this again…much more comfortable." His voice was devoid of emotion as he said this. Alfred could see an emptiness in his eyes. Looking down, Alfred began to fiddle with the ring on his left hand…his wedding band. He noticed that Arthur was still wearing his wedding ring as well.

"So…" he began, the awkwardness of the situation growing thicker. His voice got stuck in his throat. This was not how he imagined the conversation would be. Alfred had one question in mind, and if he couldn't ask it now, he would never get his answer. Clearing his throat, Alfred began once more, "You know…when we were married, and you were still Isla and all…" Arthur lifted his head to view Alfred's face more clearly. Alfred was now staring at the wall behind Arthur, as if he were too scared to look him in the eye. "I was…really happy." Alfred finally turned around to take in Arthur's expression, gauging his reaction. "And, like…I just want to know if everything that happened between us was fake or…or real."

Alfred was done speaking and awaited Arthur's response. But Arthur was once again battling his inner demons, one part of him telling him to speak the truth, and the other part telling him to lie…to let Alfred think everything _was_ fake and let him move on with his life. Sighing, Arthur decided on the truth. "If you want to know whether or not I was happy…" he began, "then I'll just tell you… being outdoors with you, with the village people…enjoying ourselves… it was probably the happiest I've been in a long time." Arthur said this with sadness laced in his voice. His entire life was so bleak that actually admitting something like this was downright humiliating. Arthur began to speak again.

"And I know that I've…scorned your affections before, but…there's no denying that everything I've felt for you has been…real." He turned his head away while rubbing his hand on his forehead. At least he had gotten this over with. Alfred was probably disgusted by this answer and would call for his execution immediately, but Arthur didn't care at this point. He hardly cared what happened to him at all. What could life possibly offer him other than more scorn?

Arthur looked up, expecting to see Alfred's face contorted in anger or disgust. Alfred was probably horrified that he had been happy with Arthur was he was Isla. But when Arthur looked at Alfred's expression, he saw the man's blue eyes glisten with…well, Arthur didn't know what it was.

"Did you…did you really mean that?" Alfred asked almost immediately. Arthur nearly stuttered. That man's face…it always looked so damn innocent, like a child's. Alfred looked at him in wonder for a moment before they heard the creak of a door not too far away.

Both men were startled and looked towards the source of the noise in apprehension. Quickly, Alfred leaned towards the bars and whispered frantically, "I'm getting you out of here…the both of us. Tomorrow night, I'll come and we'll escape, got it?" Arthur could only nod numbly in response. He continued. "I'm actually not supposed to be down here, so if anyone asks, I wasn't here, ok?" And with that, Alfred picked up the lantern without delay and left the dungeon.

A guard walked across Arthur's prison not a moment later. Arthur receded to the shadows of his cell so the guard wouldn't notice his new clothes. He held his breath as the guard walked past his cell and out of sight.

A few hours later, Arthur was still trapped in his small prison. The room was completely dark, and no matter what, his eyes couldn't become used to it. If he waved his hand right in front of his face, he wouldn't be able to see it.

Arthur had decided to rest after his little meeting with Alfred. His mind was too boggled to try and think too much about it. The conversation had wracked his brain, but there was no use in thinking very hard about anything at this point, especially when he was still starving like mad.

All that he could hear was his nose breathing in an out as he lied down on the hay underneath him. Closing his eyes did nothing as he rested. He felt blind being unable to see anything before him. His fingers toyed with the strands of hay. Being in utter silence and darkness for so long…he just had to do something with his hands, if only to let him know that he wasn't dreaming, that he was awake and alive. Anything to remind him he was still in the physical world and not hallucinating about the stillness before him.

Alfred's earlier question…_Did you really mean that?_ It caused Arthur to suffer just thinking about it. That naïve man…he had looked so eager when he asked that. It was almost as if…as if Alfred felt the same way….felt the same way despite Arthur being a man, being a fraud.

It made Arthur sick to his stomach.

Everything about what had happened was _wrong_. Any lingering feelings they may have had for one another shouldn't _be_ there, they were sinful emotions and the obvious work of demons or witchcraft or _something_…

He thought he really ought to be killed.

He should have lied…he shouldn't have let someone so…so damn innocent actually think he felt any sort of affection for him. Why the hell did he have to go and run off like that after his parents confronted him? Why hadn't he just decided to stay in their room and let Alfred swim in peace? Why had he let Alfred kiss him? Why did he kiss Alfred back?

All of this could have been avoided! Every feeling, every happy moment could have been prevented, if only Arthur had been smarter! He had to be the biggest idiot out there to think that any…any romantic relationship was possible with Alfred…to continue anything of the sort was immoral, sinful… The guilt Arthur felt towards the situation made him want to vomit.

He fisted the hay in his hand in anger. His hand trembled with the force of his clutch, but eventually, he loosened his hold. He ought to be killed…

"Arthur…"

Arthur, startled out of his thoughts, immediately sat up and looked around. "I-Isla?" he asked into the darkness, so sure he had just heard her voice…

"Over here…"

Arthur turned around and saw the faint glow of a candle. Sitting next to it on a small box was Isla.

"Isla?" he asked, shaking his head. No…no, it couldn't be. "K-katya, isn't it?" he asked. It had to be Katya. He had never seen the servant before, but Katya had been in as much trouble as he had, and it would only make sense if she was locked here in the cell with him.

"Have…have you been here this entire time?" he asked, nearly angry that she hadn't made her presence known before.

Katya smiled and looked at him. "Don't you recognize your own sister, Arthur?"

No words were able to surface from Arthur's mouth. He continued to shake his head. "No…" he kept muttering to himself. He was just dreaming, that was all. He was dreaming and would wake up and this haunting nightmare would be behind him.

That couldn't be Isla…no, Isla was dead, Isla wasn't sitting right here before him. "Y-you aren't real," he said, continuing to shake his head.

"Arthur…"

"No!" he screamed, backing up against a stone wall while he continued to sit on the floor of hay. "You aren't real, Isla isn't here, Isla is gone, don't you _dare_ trick me!"

"Arthur, I-"

"Shut up!" he screamed at the woman, thing, whatever it was. It was an illusion, a figment of his imagination, Isla was _gone_…

This had to be some sort of dirty trick. A cruel, nasty trick. Someone was trying to play with his emotions. Didn't anyone realize how much Isla had meant to him?! Why the hell would someone try to do this?!

"Iggy…"

Arthur stopped shouting. His mouth quivered and his eyes widened. Did…did this person just call him…?

"Iggy, it's me…" the woman said forlornly.

Iggy…an old nickname Isla had for Arthur when they were small children. Their father had been insulting him again, saying he'd be cast down in "ignominy" for the rest of his life…Isla, just a small child of three, couldn't pronounce the word and said "iggy" instead. It had been a name she used for him ever since…turning something hateful into something loving…

But…but only Isla new of that nickname. They hadn't told anyone. But Isla was _gone_, how the hell did this person know…?

No…it couldn't be. It couldn't be her, his mind was playing tricks, it couldn't be _her_…

"I-I'm dreaming…" Arthur said with a nervous chuckle. "I'm dreaming, o-or I've just gone crazy, that's all…" His breathing was shaky as he said this, staring at the woman before him.

The woman- Isla?- gave a sad smile. "Perhaps you have gone crazy…" she said. Isla bit her bottom lip softly before continuing. "But…it really is me, Arthur. And yes, I've died…" Isla got up from the small wooden box and approached him. Arthur backed up into the wall even further, looking completely frightened. Isla lowered the top of her dress slightly to show the scar from where she was stabbed. Arthur brought up a shaky hand and traced the scar lightly.

"Y-you can't be real…" he said, but with less conviction in his voice.

"Arthur…" she said again, taking her brother's hand into the two of her own, "it's me."

Arthur felt tears pool at the edges of his eyes. He was staring right at his sister.

"But…y-you're dead," he said, feeling a tear stream down his cheek. "You're gone…"

"Yes," Isla answered. "But I wanted to see you again…" she said softly.

Arthur let out a shaky breath as a few more tears made their way down his cheeks. Isla began to speak again. "You were very brave Arthur…I know what our parents made you do…" Arthur's cheeks burned in shame. "You've suffered…we both have…" She took away her hands and placed them in her lap as she sat down in front of him.

"Tell me about Alfred…about America…" she said, a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

Arthur sniffled and stared at her. "Y-you want me to…?" She nodded. Arthur stared at her for a moment before speaking. "Alfred is…he's not…he was perfect for you, Isla…" he said, knowing in his heart that nothing was truer. "You would have loved him…he…he is kind, a-and a little idiotic, but in a good way…" Isla gave a soft smile to tell him to continue. "And America…here…the skies _are_ blue…" he said, thinking about the castle grounds, the small village beyond its gates…even Alfred's eyes. "Yes…you…you would have found it…quite beautiful…" he said softly.

Isla's smile grew, her cheekbones high on her face, causing the edges her eyes to scrunch the slightest bit. "Were you happy here?" she asked, but a knowing expression on her face.

"I was…for a short while…" he said, the tears finally stopping. He looked into her face as if she held the answers to something, anything. Isla had to be here for a reason…

"Arthur…you deny yourself that very happiness…" Isla said with a sorrowful look on her face.

Arthur was taken aback. "What…what do you mean?"

Isla spoke again. "I think…that if you really care for Alfred…and if you're happy with him, then you should be with him."

Arthur stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "No…no, you it's wrong, it's _wrong_, Isla, I can't-"

"Arthur," she interrupted him. She looked at him with sad eyes before continuing. "You were my only friend growing up…we were all each other had, and… I know that you can be happy with him…" She stood up and began to walk towards the candle by the wooden box. "I am at rest now… I can't be here anymore to make you happy…but…Alfred can." She sat back down on the box. Isla gave him a soft smile. "I have to go now Arthur. I love you, brother."

And with that, she vanished.

* * *

"How _dare_ you disgrace my family in such a way!" Sir Jones shouted at Arthur's parents. "Do you realize just how humiliating this is?!"

"It's not _our_ fault Isla was killed, you bloody bastard!" Sir Kirkland shouted right back. "My _son_ just dressed like a woman! I find that to be much more embarrassing than you could _ever_ imagine!"

"My own son engaged in _sodomy_, and-"

"I did _not_, dad!" Alfred screamed at his father for the hundredth time. He was sitting at the table between the feuding parents, trying to explain how he hadn't actually had sex with Arthur…if only they would just _listen_ to him.

"At least _your_ son wasn't the one getting it up the ass!"

"Stop it!" Alfred shouted, slamming his hands onto the table. But nothing was working. The two fathers continued to argue, the uproar causing Alfred's head to ache. He fisted his hands into his hair. There was no negotiating, no compromising, just, "your son" this and "my son" that. The mothers' comments were a bit more biting, using their sarcasm and wit to try and outdo one another. Alfred had never seen his mom so angry before. Lady Jones had been in absolute tears at first after she found out the truth, but then she became hard and resolute, a fire in her eyes as she scorned Alfred and Matthew's very existence.

This argument was so _stupid_. No one was coming to an agreement on anything. Debates between Arthur being put to death were discussed, but then what would Alfred do for a wife? How could the kingdoms unite themselves without a marriage?

Alfred's parents claimed that since the marriage had taken place, they should be given the power of the two kingdoms, especially since their son was to eventually take over regardless if he had actually married Isla. But Arthur's parents didn't like this idea at all, claiming that the power ought to be theirs instead, for the kingdom of America was poor and needed their help in the first place.

Alfred's mother began to shriek in rage. "I knew it! I _knew_ we should have watched them consummate, but _no_, we had to go and give them their damn privacy! Other kingdoms require the nobles to watch a newly wedded couple, but 'the hell to that', you said!" she shouted at her husband.

"I didn't realize Isla was a _man_!" he replied angrily.

"Our sons have lost all their innocence!" she screamed. "We should have watched Alfred, and we should have kept both sons confined to the castle and guarded everyday! Matthew slept with a _servant_, for goodness sake!"

This comment made Alfred snap. "Confine us to the castle even _more_? Are you crazy?!" he asked, infuriated. "We were locked in our rooms all the damn time! And now you're telling me we should have been imprisoned in this fucking castle with guards _watching_ us all the time?!" His mother glared at him dangerously. "You know, the reason we're so 'disobedient' all the time is _because_ you don't give us any damn freedom! You never have!"

Alfred seethed with rage. He was breathing heavily and staring at his mother. She didn't feel they were watched over enough…she felt that he needed a fucking guard to stare at him all day long to make sure he behaved. He didn't want the bleak walls of this stupid castle, he wanted the outdoors! And yet, this had all somehow "corrupted" him, the fact that he wasn't being watched all the time…his mother honestly felt like he had too _much_ freedom, and the thought made Alfred sick to his stomach.

Alfred's father coughed into his hand. Collecting himself, he turned to Arthur's parents. "The past is the past…we need to look towards the future, as in, what we do for an heir?"

For this, Arthur's parents had no answer. Lady Kirkland spoke up. "Just take a damn peasant babe and claim it's yours…" she said icily. Sir Jones huffed in rage.

"I ought to strangle you," he said, staring right at her. Turning so his back faced them all, he announced, "I'm going to have you and your damn family executed! The kingdom belongs to America now! The marriage ensures this!"

Sir Kirkland fumed. "You will do no such thing…"

The other man smirked and turned around. "And I'll start with your son, Arthur…castrated and then hung, this evening!" he said with finality.

Alfred immediately stood from his chair. "No, you can't _do_ that!" Alfred was scared stiff now. They couldn't do that to Arthur, they just couldn't…

"Sit your ass down, boy!" his father ordered.

"No, I won't let you do that to Arthur, you _can't_, you-"

But Alfred never finished his statement, for at that moment, he felt the cool touch of a blade against his throat. Sir Kirkland had grabbed him from behind and was holding a dagger to this neck. "If you even try to kill us, I'll kill your son…"

Sir Jones looked at his son for a moment, before saying, "Doesn't matter…he'll be executed as well for sleeping with Arthur…" Alfred's eyes widened even more. He was going to be sentenced to death as well?!

Lady Jones was enraged. "You are _not_ killing our son!" she screamed, anger and disbelief marring her features.

The doors swung open as Matthew ran into the room. "W-wait!" he screamed, having overheard everything. It wasn't as if he didn't know how to sneak out of his room as well. "Don't kill Alfred or Arthur, please!" he begged, running up to the feet of his father and dropping to his knees. He looked up. "Father…"

"Get out of here, Matthew…" his father told him.

"Please!" Matthew said as he grabbed the fabric of his father's clothing. "I-I'll do anything…" he began as he choked back sobs. "I'll marry anyone you want, their cousins or another noble or anyone, just please, don't kill them!"

"I ought to have Katya killed as well, Matthew…" his father said, eyeing his son with disgust. Matthew sobbed harder.

Sir Kirkland, with the dagger still placed on Alfred's neck, spoke up. "It doesn't matter…our family has no more females on either side…"

An angry silence laced the room, with the exception of Matthew's crying. Matthew's father spoke again. "Halt your tears, or I'll kill her myself."

Matthew shoved his hand into his mouth and bit down to stop himself from making any more noise.

"Bring that damn servant in!" Sir Jones shouted at the guards. He _would_ kill her, and he _would_ teach Matthew to behave…He had always been the obedient twin, but for him to do something like this, to plan to _elope_…he needed to be taught a lesson.

"F-father, no, please don't…" Matthew begged.

But as soon as he said this, Katya was brought into the room. Her eyes were red as she had been crying earlier. His father took one look at her before bringing out a dagger of his own. He approached her and turned towards his son. "_This_ is what happens to children who don't behave."

"Stop!"

And Sir Jones did. He stopped not because it was Matthew who had just screamed not to kill her, but Lady Kirkland.

Arthur's mother had her head tilted slightly as she observed Katya. She circled the servant girl, finally halting in front of her face. "She looks just like Isla…" she said, turning to her husband to confirm.

Sir Kirkland released his grip on Alfred and walked towards his wife's side. "She's practically an exact replicate…" he said, almost in awe. Lady Kirkland turned to Alfred's father.

"I have an offer to make," she said as she walked towards the table. Turning so that she faced everyone in the room, she began to speak. "Who is going to know the difference between Katya and Isla?" she asked them. "We can pretend Katya is Isla and say she is married to Alfred, and no one will know."

Everyone in the room was silent, thoughts racing through their minds. Alfred stared at Arthur's mother, his eyebrows furrowed. He would…be married to Katya? Is that was she was suggesting? Alfred decided to speak up. "No…" he said, an idea striking him. "No, we can pretend that Matthew is me…so he can be married to Katya…I mean," he said as he moved towards the table. "We can say Katya is Isla, and that Matthew is me…Matt and I are twins, no one will know the difference…"

The parents considered this thought for a moment. Sir Jones looked to his wife. "Well…what do _you_ think?" Lady Jones looked a bit lost.

"I…" she began, but sighed. "I suppose…I suppose that is what we shall have to do."

Matthew's father released his grip from Katya, who ran to Matthew in a hurry. They embraced each other, both with tears streaking their faces.

* * *

Arthur was released from his cell that afternoon. Katya would pretend to be Isla and Matthew would pretend to be Alfred… Everything had worked out for those two, and Arthur was glad. For those that knew the truth, they were forced to take a vow of silence. This story was never to leave the castle.

But where did that leave Arthur? Both sets of parents seemed eager to ignore his very existence. And yet, Arthur didn't mind this. All he knew was that he wanted to leave everything that had happened behind him. He wasn't going to be sentenced to death. It would put blood on their hands, and Alfred's parents wanted the kingdom quite badly.

Matthew had looked quite elated. He was so happy that he was marrying the woman he loved, and Arthur couldn't help but envy what he, no, they had.

Arthur was in the bedroom, staring out the window at the grounds below. The sky was a clear blue and the grass was rich and green. He was packing some things, ready to leave this castle and perhaps travel on his own somewhere…somewhere very far away.

When Arthur had been told he was no longer their prisoner, that he wouldn't be sentenced to death, he didn't know what to feel. He couldn't, or rather, wouldn't believe it at first… But they spoke the truth, and with that, Arthur had pretty much been left to his own devices.

Arthur wasn't sure what to feel now, actually. Should he be happy? In some ways, he was. He was no longer dressed like a girl, and he no longer had to stay here… But in other ways, he felt everything had happened too quickly, like he was being let off much too easily…as if some other conflict should arise and trouble him any moment now.

He breathed in deeply. The sun was beautiful out today, and he was finally glad he could see the outdoors rather than the pitch black of his cell.

"Arthur…?" someone asked from behind. Arthur turned his head slowly to see Alfred peaking into the room.

"Hello, Alfred," he said, his voice just a bit too formal and…empty.

Alfred was wringing his hands nervously. "So, um…" he began, staring straight at Arthur. "Are we still, you know…married?" he asked him, honestly wondering if they were both going to pretend the marriage didn't exist. He knew his parents were already doing so.

Arthur's eyes widened a bit. "W-well…I don't know…do you want to be?" he asked, unsure of what Alfred wanted his answer to be. If Arthur answered truthfully, he would have said he didn't mind being married to Alfred. He fingered the ring on his left hand. It was still tight, but it was still _his_. Katya and Matthew had been given new rings, so he and Alfred still had theirs.

"Uh, well…" Alfred's cheeks colored slightly. "I mean, I wouldn't mind, but if you do, then…" he said, his voice trailing off as he averted his eyes. Arthur coughed slightly.

"N-no, I don't mind…" he answered honestly, averting his eyes as well.

Alfred looked up. "O-ok then…" he said. They were both quiet after that, lapsing into yet another one of their frequent silences. Arthur turned around and continued to stare out the window, allowing his mind to wander. Alfred walked towards the window and looked out as well. "Do you miss her?" he asked suddenly, waking Arthur from his small reverie.

"What?" he asked, unsure if he had heard the question correctly.

"I said, do you miss her? Isla…" he asked again, genuine curiosity in his voice. Arthur's eyes were downcast.

"Of course I miss her…" he said. "She was my twin sister and…all I ever had…" Arthur spoke this last statement quietly, recalling their lives together. She really had been his only friend in life, and for that, he was grateful. A small smile tugged the corners of his lips.

"What was she like?" Alfred asked, noticing the smile and wanting to see it grow, if only a little more.

"She was wonderful…" Arthur said as her face came to mind. "She was always trying to make the best of situations…always trying to look for beauty in things…" His smile grew. "You know, she asked me before we left if the sky was blue here…it was the one thing she looked forward to coming to the kingdom of America…"

Alfred took a quick glance out the window. "The sky usually is always blue…isn't it blue in England?" Arthur gave a sarcastic chuckle.

"When it's not raining, I suppose…" he said. Alfred could only give a small "oh" in response. Arthur was once again lost in his memories before he decided to speak again. "You know…" he began. "You two would have been perfect for each other, had you met," he said, staring straight into Alfred's eyes, where the sky _was_ always blue, despite the conditions outdoors.

"But I didn't meet Isla, Arthur…" Alfred said. "I met you."

Arthur's smile fell for a moment, and instead he looked at Alfred with surprise. Alfred took a few steps closer.

"Look…" he said, becoming nervous again. But this was no time to be nervous. He would be straight to the point. "Arthur…if what you said down there was true…that…that everything we experienced together was real…" His voice trailed off. But he had to do this. "Then I think…I just…I really do like you, Arthur," he finally said, the weight off of his shoulders.

Arthur's eyes were wide before he said, "But you don't know anything about me…"

"T-that's not true!" Alfred said suddenly. "I know that you're stubborn, a-and that you roll your eyes whenever you think I'm being stupid, and that you're kind of cranky all the time…"

Arthur began to sputter slightly hearing these insults.

Alfred continued with a smile. "Yeah, and you do that blushing and sputtering thing whenever you're angry!" Arthur began to sputter even more.

But suddenly, Alfred's face became more serious. "I also know that you've been through a lot…but that doesn't stop you… You're really strong, and resilient…" Arthur stared at Alfred, trying to see just where he was going with all of this. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I think I do know you, and, well…Can I…can I try something?" he asked Arthur, his eyes earnest. Arthur nodded his head, unsure of Alfred's intentions.

Alfred placed his hands on either side of Arthur's face and bent down slightly. Closing his eyes, Alfred touched his lips to Arthur's, giving him a small kiss. Arthur allowed his eyes to close as well press forward the slightest bit. Alfred released Arthur after a few seconds and stared right at him. Arthur was too stunned to move and gazed right back. Alfred spoke again.

"It feels the same, Arthur…" he said. Alfred had just kissed a man, and it didn't feel any different from when he thought Arthur was a woman. It felt the same…the exact same feeling, the same emotions he had when they had both been outdoors together…

Arthur brought a hand up to his lips as he continued to stare at Alfred. He brought it down and took a few steps closer to Alfred. At the same time, both men leaned their faces in towards one another and kissed, softly and surely.

And it _did_ feel the same. Arthur let his hands grasp Alfred's head as Alfred tangled one of his hands in his hair. Their lips moved in perfect unison, and Arthur could honestly say that everything about this moment felt _right_. There was no longer any guilt lingering in his body. Alfred cared for him, and he cared for Alfred.

The kiss lasted a few seconds longer before Alfred decided to pull away, a bright smile warming his face. He held Arthur's hands in his own. "I was wondering…well, my parents don't really need me around the castle anymore, and since you were going, I kind of figured…well, maybe you'd like to travel the countryside with me?" he asked, his voice eager for Arthur's response.

"I think…I think that would be nice…" Arthur said, smiling right back.

* * *

And so, Alfred and I toured the kingdom of America. There was much more to it than I had originally thought. Everything about the land is beautiful… I wish Isla could have seen it.

But I shouldn't burden myself with any negative thoughts. I know that she is at peace, at rest, and that is all that matters. And I'm…I'm actually happy now. Sure, Alfred can be…well, a pain and an idiot, but it's quite endearing…

I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much now that I think about it. I don't think _I've_ ever smiled so much. Alfred says I should do it more often.

But ah, where are my manners? I was telling you a story, yes? Well, although my life is no fairytale, I'll end it on this note.

We lived happily ever after, as sappy as that sounds. I'm just glad to be me again, and glad that I no longer have to keep secrets. Now if you'll excuse me, Alfred's running through the fields, so I have an idiot to chase.

Fin.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for all of your reviews, comments, favorites, alerts, etc. It really meant a lot to me, and this is my favorite fic that I've written so far. I really put a lot of thought and effort into it, and I hope it shows :)

You have noooo idea just how many comments I received, "NO, DON'T CASTRATE ARTHUR!! DDD:" It. was. hilarious. xDDD I never originally intended to castrate him, but after all those comments, I was like, "hm…maybe I _should_" xD But I couldn't, not to poor Arthur (although I had my friend encouraging me to change my style and write an angsty ending for once XD)

A few historical notes and things I want to bring up!

I did a lot of research, and I really tried to focus on Arthur's plight as Isla through the marriage. Back in those days, women were married for land and power. There was no love or anything like that. And yes, the guests of the wedding really were supposed to watch the new couple consummate…perverts

xD

A marriage could be annulled if there was no consummation, however, which is something both Alfred and Arthur struggle with at the end. They could pretend the marriage never existed if they really wanted to. But they don't want to, so they'll continue on as a married couple.

And about Arthur's dad, Sir Kirkland. I want to explain his actions (I just want to, ok?! D:) He has a sort of pride thing going on for him. He lost all of his sons before Isla and Arthur were born, so he had a lot of expectations, and although Arthur didn't meet those expectations, he was still a son. Sir Kirkland was proud to be the father of so many boys, so when it was just down to Arthur and Isla, he took pride in the fact that at least one of the twins was born male. He's always been concerned with Arthur being what he deemed "feminine", and having Arthur dress like a girl was not high on his "Things I'd Really Like to do to Mess with my Son" list. It was his wife's idea from the very beginning, and he handled the situation nervously and angrily, taking most of the anger he held for his wife's decision out on Arthur.

Also, Arthur was the only child he had left. Most people died during the castration process. I researched it a bit and this is what I found: on African American slave trade ships, men were sometimes castrated. Everything was cut off and the wound was sealed with a hot iron. They would be fed nothing, and instead they were given water for days until enough liquid built up to pierce a hole through the skin so they could urinate. Roughly 90% of people died from this brutal process. Now, I know this story is not about slave trade in any way, but it was a method used back then and one I thought would be more dramatic in the story. Therefore, Arthur had a high chance of not surviving the process, and that would leave Sir Kirkland without any child whatsoever, and that did not go well with him at all.

That was…longer than expected :'D Oh well.

If you have any questions about the story, or any helpful critiques, that would be wonderful :)

Thank you for reading

-Smrtypantz


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